


Katabasis

by LadyStormcrow



Category: The Dark Crystal (1982), The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance (TV)
Genre: AOR Speculation, Alien Political Intrigue, F/M, Guilt, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Genocide, Implied/Referenced Torture, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pregnancy, Redemption themes, traumatic memories
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:54:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 56,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24619441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyStormcrow/pseuds/LadyStormcrow
Summary: The Crystal of Truth has been healed, but life on Thra is still out of balance, leaving Jen and Kira worried for their future. Meanwhile, the urSkeks have returned to their homeworld, but that world doesn't feel like home anymore. As a new threat from beyond the stars endangers them all, they'll have to face their pasts, and seek answers in the only place they can be found: in the minds of the dead.
Relationships: Jen/Kira (Dark Crystal)
Comments: 75
Kudos: 61





	1. Chapter 1

The light was every bit as bright as they remembered.

When they emerged from the heart of the Crystal - _their_ Crystal - the light filled all their senses for a moment, as it had the first time they made such a journey. Then it began to clear, and they perceived more.

The familiar sparkle of the suns on the many towers and spires of OmPhaben, the capital city of their world.

The hum of energy from the workings of the city, and from the thoughts and voices of their people.

The brush of wind on their now-corporeal forms, carrying hints of dampness and salt from the nearby ocean.

They emerged under a morning sky, eight who had once been twice-nine, and shared the unspoken thought they had dreamed of for a thousand trine: _we’re home._

They did not remain alone for long. The guards who always watched the Crystal, floating in spirals around the dais where it rested, took notice of their arrival immediately, as did the handful of pilgrims who had been permitted to visit today. The eight returning urSkeks found themselves quickly surrounded by more and more of their brethren, their coronas flaring with wonder, joy, curiosity … and apprehension.

_“You have returned!”_

_“Why were you gone so long?”_

_“What have you seen?”_

_“Are you well?”_

_“Where are the others?”_

Before the eight could give answers (not that they were eager to, not yet), they found themselves encircled by Enforcers, who wordlessly escorted them to a holding chamber in one of the smaller Towers of Administration. They would remain there, they were informed, until the Council of Nine convened. 

“It’s to be expected,” UngIm reassured his comrades, as they rested from their journey and tried not to be afraid. “They told us we could return if we mastered our darker natures, so they must judge if we have met their terms.”

“And if they do not allow us back?” SilSol countered. “What then?”

“That,” replied ZokZah, “we can only decide when it comes. Let us not be afraid until we hear the Council’s ruling.” 

But the Ritualist’s words were easier said than followed. As night fell and the eight of them continued to wait, they remained close and silent, taking comfort from each other’s presence but still not daring to speak of what they had left behind them, or what fate might lie ahead of them now. 

Only ShodYod remained apart from the others. The holding chamber had a small, triangular window, formed by a thinning of the crystalline wall, and he stared through it at the darkened sky. Even here, in the heart of the city, he could make out the familiar, beloved stars and constellations he had not seen for two thousand trine. 

… Yet something was wrong. 

* * *

Despite their hopes, the eight were still surprised by the Council’s ruling.

“You will be allowed to live among us again,” proclaimed SharSet, the most senior of the Grand Nine. Her low, rich voice carried from her spot on the peak of the Council’s huge pyramid-shaped gathering platform, echoing down into the dock where the eight waited. “And you may each resume your old titles. But, understand, your return is conditional. We will observe your hearts and actions for a time, and if you show that you have truly conquered your darkness, only then will you be allowed to stay permanently.”

“You are no longer the Fallen,” RomRah spoke from beside her, “but your crimes have not been forgotten. It remains to be seen how your time in exile has truly changed you.” 

“And there is one more condition.” 

UngIm and his comrades looked up at the final speaker, who hovered at one of the lowest corners of the platform. He was younger than the other Council members, young by urSkek standards in general, and his voice reflected his nature: loud, sharp, and eager to be listened to. 

UngIm fought down the flare of anger that rose in his heart. When he and SoSu’s other disciples had been brought before the Council over two thousand trine ago, KalPol, who had only been an Inquisitor at the time, had advocated for permanent dissolution as their punishment: a thing that had not been inflicted on any urSkek in a hundred Ages. The Council had rebuked him for his harshness, yes, but UngIm had not forgotten that they did give his words consideration first. 

And he did not miss that KalPol now held SoSu’s old spot on the Council. 

“The name of SoSu the Heretic is to be stricken from our world,” KalPol went on. “You may mourn him among yourselves, and the others you have lost, but you are never to speak their names to others. Even in death, their corruption may spread, and we cannot risk that.” 

The Council now spoke as one. _“What do you say?”_

The other seven turned to UngIm, watching. His expression never changed, but he clenched his jaw, even as he dimmed his corona in the urSkek sign of submission. “We accept the Council’s ruling, and we are grateful.”

* * *

“I didn’t think it would be that easy,” AyukAmaj spoke later, in the shared residence the Council had granted them in the heart of OmPhaben. Its location might have seemed like a kindness, but UngIm knew the true reason: it would keep them close to the Towers of Administration, where they could be easily watched. “I thought surely they would demand further penance from us!” 

“You don’t think this is penance enough?” Even though he spoke with his mind, OkAc’s voice sounded choked, as if he was holding back tears. “They want us to forget our friends! I promised LachSen I would inscribe an epitaph for her in the Halls of the Dead, and now they forbid it! How can they be so cruel?” 

From his place near one of the residence’s tall windows, SilSol looked out at the Towers. “It _is_ strange. The Council has tried to suppress … _unpleasantness_ before, but to be so open about it is unlike them.” A soft _mmmmm_ escaped the Cantor’s throat. “One might wonder if there is something else. Something they wish to banish from their own minds by forgetting SoSu.” 

UngIm, who had been trying not to cringe at that too-familiar sound, suddenly understood what had felt so wrong at the Council meeting. It wasn’t only the presence of KalPol, though that had been worrying enough. “You’re right. It’s not like them to give our return so little attention, or reach a decision so quickly. Something has them distracted.” 

Out on the balcony, ShodYod listened to their conversation, but said nothing. 

His eyes were still on the stars. 

* * *

As the Council had promised, the eight once-Fallen urSkeks returned to their old roles. UngIm found it easy to fall back into his duties as the Physician; even during the thousand trine he had spent with his soul divided, half of him had always been a healer. He did his best to hold back his notoriously short temper, and pretend that he did not relish the challenge of fighting particularly nasty wounds and diseases.

For the most part, he succeeded. 

During the second unum of their return, SilSol left the shared residence to visit the city where he had been a neophyte, on the far side of the ocean. Several Enforcers accompanied him (quietly, never drawing attention to themselves), and UngIm and the others watched him depart. 

As the Cantor beamed away on the light of the Crystal, UngIm reflected that, while the light might be as bright as he remembered, he did not remember it being so cold. 

* * *

It was NaNol who put what they were all feeling into words.

“Being back doesn’t feel like I thought it would.” The Botanist hooked a pale silver-green herb from its hydroponic pot with the remaining finger on his left hand. “I miss the things I used to grow on Thra. When we planned to return the first time, I hoped I might bring some of them with me. Now, it feels like they never existed. Never mattered.”

“Perhaps that’s for the best,” UngIm replied. “We, all of us, did terrible things to Thra and its people. And we suffered terrible things there, too.”

 _Some of us more than others,_ he thought, looking at his friend’s missing eye and maimed hand. “...If you wanted, I could try to heal those.”

NaNol’s aura flickered gray, the urSkek equivalent of shaking his head. “It wouldn’t feel right. SkekNa earned these wounds, and I shouldn’t forget them.”

It was the first time any of them had mentioned one of their divided names. 

* * *

EktUtt was the next to bring it up.

“It isn’t fair!” The Designer held up a synthsilk ribbon, patterned in the red and violet of a sunrise. When he had left the residence that morning, eager to show off his latest creation, he had been wearing it tied in a bow around a branch of his _thalli,_ the upright, twining formations urSkeks grew on their heads. “I worked for _days_ capturing these colors! It deserves to be appreciated, but the Enforcers made me remove it!”

UngIm could see why. The bright colors stood out like fire against the cool whites and grays of OmPhaben and its residents. Despite what lesser beings might think, all urSkeks did _not_ look the same, but making oneself look unique was ... not encouraged.

“We really shouldn’t draw attention to ourselves,” the Physician replied. “We’re supposed to show the Council we can reintegrate -”

“Maybe I don’t _want_ to reintegrate!” EktUtt snapped. “Maybe I don’t want to keep making the same old patterns over and over! I miss the Ornamentalist’s workshop, and the Weaver’s loom! I know, I know, I did awful things there, but I _made_ wonderful things too -”

“I remember.” To UngIm’s relief, the Culinarian stepped in to help calm his friend. “I miss what I had on Thra too. I wish I could share some of my recipes, but I don’t have the ingredients.”

“No one else here has ever tasted them,” Ungim tried to remind him. “Would they know the difference?”

AyukAmaj’s aura dimmed. “ _I_ would know.” 

* * *

By the end of their first trine back, UngIm had admitted to himself that the others were right. And at the end of their second trine, he went in search of SilSol.

He found the Cantor on a quiet beach, tending to a bohrtog. SilSol hummed gently as he smoothed and petted the huge blue creature’s beak, and UngIm shook his head at the sound as he approached.

“I still hate your whimper.” 

A faint smile touched SilSol’s mouth. “You didn’t need to come find me. I was planning to return soon anyway.”

“Why?” UngIm asked, though he could guess the reason well enough.

SilSol proved him right. “It’s lonely here. The Enforcers aren’t watching me closely anymore, but I still can’t risk talking about … everything.”

“Then why did you leave in the first place?”

The Cantor’s aura dimmed. “I thought it would be easier to forget, if I came back here. If I wasn’t around the rest of you.”

“But it wasn’t?”

“No. If anything, carrying the memories alone made them worse.” For a moment, a shadow darkened his corona, and then faded. “Then again, I have more memories than the rest of you that I’d like to forget.”

“Are you so sure about that?” UngIm lowered his corporeal body over a sea-smoothed rock; not quite sitting, but resting himself. “The Garthim Master did things -”

“Did skekUng let his own self-pity spoil our chance to cleanse ourselves of our darkness?” SilSol interrupted. “Did skekUng first suggest using Thra’s Crystal to drain the life from its people?” He met the Physician’s eyes. “Did skekUng take VarMa from us?”

UngIm froze. He … his divided self, that is, had always suspected skekSil of being responsible for skekVar’s death, but had never been able to prove it. And after they had been made whole again, he could never bring himself to ask.

Now, he knew.

“...GraGoh…”

The darkness flickered again in SilSol’s aura. “GraGoh’s halves died in honorable combat, fighting to protect Thra’s people. He did not die believing you were his friend.”

For that, UngIm had no answer.

“The Council wanted us to master our darker selves,” SilSol went on. “That is supposed to be the urSkek way. _But how can we?_ The darkness that was in skekSil … that wanting to control, to manipulate … I still remember it, still _feel_ it, every day. Burning it away did not work. Forgetting it does not work. What else can I do?”

UngIm had no answer for that, either. 

* * *

For the first few trine of their return, ShodYod continued to say little. The other seven did not find this strange; the Arithmetician had always been the quietest of them, even before their division, and they knew he had his own wounds and dark memories to nurse.

He kept watching the stars, but as the days went on, he began to do more. He traveled from city to city, spending time in observatories across the planet. On occasions when he did talk, he consulted with OkAc for access to the star-charts in OmPhaben’s library. He buried himself in records on history, astronomy, and space exploration.

And, on the eve of their seventh trine home, he showed the others his own star-chart.

“I knew something was wrong our first night.” The Arithmetician’s voice was soft, but steady, his long fingers weaving gracefully through the miniature stars and nebulae in the hologram. “The constellation of the Compass … it’s faint, but it was always my favorite, ever since I was a neophyte. I looked for it our first night, but I couldn’t see the star that formed the smaller point.”

“Yes, you told me,” OkAc quipped. “And I ask again, are you sure it wasn’t just the city lights?”

“I thought it might be,” replied ShodYod, with a graying of his aura. “That’s why I started charting its course. I’m sure of it now: the star is gone.”

“Gone?” ZokZah tilted his head in puzzlement. He might not be an astronomer, but being able to predict and follow the paths of the heavens were part of his duties as Ritualist. “How can a star be _gone?_ When stars die, they die in brightness, and their light carries on for many ages after.”

“I don’t know how it happened,” ShodYod insisted. “But I’m sure of it. Xaphan-Prime was a thriving star, perhaps halfway through its life cycle, and now it’s vanished. And so have Xaphan-Secundus and Xaphan-Tertiary.”

SilSol’s corona grew pale. “... Xaphan was part of a three-star system?”

 _A star system with a Crystal,_ he did not add. _A star system like ours._

“Yes.” ShodYod adjusted the hologram with two fingers, zooming in on the place where the Xaphan system had once been. “And it’s not the only one.” 

* * *

By the end of the night, the Arithmetician’s findings had been made clear.

For some time - he still had not calculated how long - stars had been disappearing from their galaxy. Whatever had erased them appeared to be spreading out from the galaxy’s center in a rough spiral. On the rare occasions it strayed from the path ShodYod had mapped, it was always to seek out the nearest three-star system.

As if it were hunting worlds with Crystals.

“If it continues on the path I’ve predicted,” ShodYod told the others, “it will be less than a trine before it reaches our world. And after that, when it spirals around to the other side of the galaxy …”

“Thra,” SilSol whispered. “Thra will be next.”

“We still have to worry about ourselves first!” UngIm faced the others. “Do you remember what SoSu asked of us, before we were banished? What he wanted us to help him do?”

OkAc was the first to answer. “... He wanted us to do something to the Crystal. He spoke of reshaping it into a new structure, one that would preserve our world. I thought he was speaking in metaphor...”

“So did I. But now I can’t help thinking he knew something we did not. Something that the rest of the Council might know, and are keeping secret.”

SilSol made a derisive sound. “Not likely they would tell _us_.”

“Indeed. And we cannot consult others without breaking their law not to speak of SoSu.” UngIm turned to the Arithmetician again. “Did he share anything with you?”

“No.” ShodYod’s tone was faintly bitter. “He may have shared more of his plan with TekTih, but not with me.”

UngIm leaned in closer over the table where the hologram projector rested. Watching him, the others couldn’t help being reminded of when he had once been Spy-Master, then General, and had looked over maps to plan the Skeksis’ wars.

“My friends, we cannot ignore this. If ShodYod is right, our world, and many others, are in grave danger. Either our Council does not know of it, or they know and have done nothing, and either way we cannot approach them.” _Especially not with KalPol among them._ “The only one who can give us answers is SoSu.”

“But SoSu is _dead._ ” ZokZah sounded frustrated that he had to remind the Physician of this. “He died on Thra, with this soul rent asunder.”

UngIm faced the Ritualist. “Then we have to go back.” 

* * *

_**To Be Continued…** _


	2. Chapter 2

The song came again…

From her place deep in the archives of the Castle of the Crystal, Aughra raised her horned head from the tome she’d been reading. Dust had settled into her shaggy gray hair, and she brushed it away with a frown. 

_Third time since the unum began_ , she thought to herself. _It’s coming more often now._

The Keeper of Secrets hauled herself to her feet, and shoved the book away with a huff. The tome, _A Catalogue of the Great Races of Thra,_ had proved to be a waste of time. What wasn’t outright lies, or fabrications to glorify the Skeksis and smear their enemies (an unbiased recorder, the Scroll-Keeper was not), had been hundreds of trine out of date. There was nothing in its pages that she, the living eyes and ears of Thra, had not by now learned for herself. 

The Gruenaks were gone, the last of them slaughtered generations ago, after they refused to give up their way of life and bow to the Emperor. The Arathim had been decimated, reduced to a handful of survivors after being harvested as raw materials for the Garthim. The Makraks were still few in number, and unlikely to ever leave their fiery home on the far side of Thra - not when Aughra’s own son had given his life to bring them there. 

The Podlings were better off than most. The Skeksis hadn’t considered them a threat, and had preferred to keep them alive as slaves when possible. They’d suffered their own cruelties, yes, and many had still lost their lives, but they were in no immediate danger of dying out. 

And the Gelfling…

“ _Ama_ Aughra!” 

The low-pitched, slightly eerie voice belonged to a Podling woman. She was thin by Podling standards, her blonde hair threaded with white, and she wore a colorful scarf wrapped around her throat in spite of the late spring warmth. 

The healing of the Crystal had restored the minds and vitality of the surviving Podling slaves, but it couldn’t heal all their wounds. Teba had been one of the many victims selected for the Ritual-Master’s choir, subjected to terrible surgeries to reshape her vocal cords until they could produce what the Skeksis considered sacred music. Mercifully, she remembered almost nothing after her essence had first been drained, but her voice would never be _hers_ again. 

“ _Ama_ Aughra,” Teba called again, hurrying down the winding glass-like ramp. “The Crystal, the Crystal is -” 

“Yes, yes, I hear it too.” Aughra marched her way past the Podling, nearly knocking her off the ramp. _I_ **_feel_ ** _it, in every old bone._

No part of the Castle was ever truly dark anymore; the intricately faceted crystalline structure shone by day and night, reflecting light into every deep corner and crevice. But the light grew brighter and warmer as Aughra made her way up to the Crystal Chamber, and with it came the smell of flowers. 

Not all of the surviving Podlings had had homes to return to. Some had been small children when they were stolen, too young and traumatized to remember where they had come from, while others had returned to find their homes leveled, their families either taken or fled to other villages. It was these lost ones, together with Ydra and some of her braver kin, who had founded a new Podling settlement in the Bah-Lem Valley - and who had taken on the task of cleansing the Castle of the Skeksis’ touch. 

Some things, like the library, had been left intact, for they might still be of use to the Castle’s new residents. Others, like the banquet table and the ruins of the Emperor’s throne, had been dismantled, wood and metal shaped into tools and rags woven into rope and cloth for the new village. The remains of the Garthim had been laid to rest, returned to Thra out of respect for the creatures whose bodies they had been built from. 

And the day when the Scientist’s laboratory had been demolished, and a team of former slaves had pushed the terrible draining-chairs down into the fiery shaft, was still remembered with joy. 

The greatest change, though, had been saved for the Crystal Chamber itself. The ceiling hatches that had once been closed except at ceremonies were always open now, letting in sun and rain and clean, free air. Vines crept up the walls, coaxed by Podling gardeners, filling the angular white chamber with blossoms of every shape and color. 

In some future Age, Aughra supposed, the vines might grow strong enough to pull down the Castle itself. _And perhaps that will be no bad thing,_ she thought, _to set the Crystal free._

The song came again…

“What are you trying to tell me?”

Aughra faced her own reflection in the Crystal of Truth. She knew the Crystal like she knew her own heart (as well she should, for they were nearly the same thing), and she knew that the voice the Castle residents had been hearing for the past trine was not the Crystal’s own. 

For one thing, it was too soft. Even when it had been damaged, the Crystal had been able to make its call heard, but this voice had started as barely more than an echo in the air. It was only in the last few unum that it had grown strong enough for Aughra to recognize it _was_ a voice. 

It seemed to be coming through the Crystal. Inside the glowing white stone, Aughra could see a mote of golden light, pulsing in time with the notes of the song. 

Or … was it two motes? 

Aughra rubbed her remaining eye, and the motes and notes were one again. And the song was stronger. 

_Two voices,_ she understood now. _Two voices becoming one, and calling out._

Did she recognize them? 

… No, not quite. The song was still too faint, as if it were coming from somewhere deep and distant…

… And familiar. 

Aughra drew back from the Crystal. “Whoever you are, you’ve got to speak up! Can’t help you if I can’t hear what you’re asking!”

Out of the corner of her good eye, she saw Teba approaching, accompanied by a few of the Castle’s other Podling residents. “ _Ama_ Aughra, you … understand?” The Podling woman gestured to the Crystal, where the song was fading to a soft hum. 

“Hm, not entirely. But I understand a little better now.”

Teba, having decided her knowledge of Gelfling still wasn’t strong enough to express what she wanted, switched to her native tongue. {“Do you think we should summon them back?”}

“What for? Aughra can find her own answers! You know the Gelfling have their own task to take care of right now. They’ll come back soon enough.” 

_And maybe,_ she dared to hope, _they won’t be alone this time._

* * *

Far away to the northwest, two small figures lay curled together in the shelter of a shallow cave. The limestone walls smelled of salt and dry lichen, and carried the imprints of ancient creatures. At the mouth of the cave, a driftwood fire kept the cold ocean wind at bay. 

It was delightfully cozy, and Jen felt no great urge to leave the cave - or to let go of the warm Gelfling woman in his arms. But all three suns were in the sky now, which meant the outside air would lose some of its chill. Enough to continue the next step of their journey, at least. 

“Kira?” Jen pulled one arm away, and the sleepy Kira made a noise that reminded him of her favorite fizzgig when his dinner was late. “The suns are up, we should try calling it again-”

“ _No._ ” Still half-asleep, she grabbed his arm and pulled it back over her like a blanket. “You stay. Keep me warm.” 

Jen laughed softly, and pressed a kiss to her cheek. As he did, his hand came to rest on her stomach, and gently stroked the firm curve that hadn’t been there when they started this journey. 

“Come on, you were the one who wanted us to keep going.” When that didn’t move her, he went on, “If we can get to the island today, I’m sure we’ll find some fresh food. Maybe even some ruva nuts…”

Kira’s ears perked at the mention of her latest craving. “All right, all right, I’m up.” 

As they dressed in the heavy mounder-wool clothes they’d brought for this journey, Jen reflected that moments like these had been among his greatest joys over the past seven trine. He and Kira did their best to honor their responsibility as keepers of the Crystal, but all the same, it was a responsibility they’d never asked for. Young and in love, and eager to see more of their world, they had decided to spend a few unum each trine traveling across Thra; partly to enjoy each other’s company, but far more importantly, to search for other surviving Gelfling. 

Their efforts hadn’t been _completely_ fruitless. On their second journey, northeast to the Mountains of Grot, they’d found what remained of the Arathim Ascendancy; the survivors were wary (and Jen and Kira could hardly blame them), but the Gelfling hoped a friendship could be built in time. And every journey had brought them to the ruins of Gelfling towns and cities, full of stories to be gleaned about the culture the two of them had come from. 

But they had found no sign of any living Gelfling. 

When they had realized, partway through their latest journey, that Kira’s bouts of nausea and soreness weren’t from eating some poisonous new food, Jen had wanted to turn around and go straight back to the Castle. A new Gelfling child, the first to be born in their healed world, was something precious beyond words. Kira needed to be kept safe, he’d said, with Ydra and the best Podling midwives to tend to her. And, he’d freely admitted, the thought of being a father both delighted and terrified him - he couldn’t do it alone. 

But Kira - wise, practical Kira - had pointed out that the baby made their quest more important than ever. Two Gelfling were not enough to repopulate their kind, she’d explained; even if they had dozens of children, those children would have no one to breed with but their brothers and sisters. In a few generations, their line would grow barren and sickly, and the Gelfling race would end all the same. 

Breeding with other races was also not an option. Growing up, when she had believed she’d never meet another Gelfling, Kira had briefly been lovers with a Podling boy from her village. Curious, she had asked her mother about the possibility of raising a family with him, and Ydra had sadly told her the truth: on the rare past occasions when Gelfling and Podling had coupled, the unions had never produced children. 

Their only hope was to find other Gelfling. If they did not, they and their child would be no more than the final verse of the song. 

* * *

The Tel-Ataq lighthouse had been the northernmost Gelfling settlement Jen could find mentioned in any of the Castle’s records. Even at the height of the Skeksis’ empire, it had been considered remote, and barely more than a legend. To his and Kira’s minds, it sounded just like the kind of place refugees from the Garthim might flee to, which made it worth finding a way to cross the icy Silver Sea. 

“There!” 

The two of them had climbed out onto the end of a rocky arm of land. Where Kira pointed, they could see waves breaking over a dark surface, and a plume of steamy breath as a young sea-tortle surfaced. 

Kira’s gift for soul-speaking was powerful, but her voice could only carry so far. When she’d tried to call the creature yesterday, it hadn’t heard her over the crashing waves and rising wind. So that night, after they made camp, they’d come up with a new plan. 

As the behemoth rested at the surface, drawing in air for another deep dive, Kira began to call a series of rolling notes - first high, then low, like the turning of the tides. Jen took his beloved firca from his parka, and played to match her. Voice and music joined as one, strengthening each other as they carried across the water…

The creature’s eyes widened, and it turned its massive head to watch them. 

Kira took a moment to breathe “It’s working!”, and then continued her call. The tortle cut smoothly through the water in spite of its size, and obediently drew itself onto the gravel shallows below them. 

Quickly, but cautiously, the two Gelfling climbed down. The behemoth’s night-blue shell was as wet as they’d expected, but their wool clothes sopped up the worst of it, and the many large spikes and bumps made it easy to hang on. 

“That was clever, using the music to call it,” Kira said as she steered their new steed north. “You never did tell me where you got the idea.”

“From the library.” Jen sounded hesitant. “The records said one of the Skeksis tamed a creature like this one, long ago. She had some sort of flute or whistle to call it with.” 

Kira frowned. While she knew in her head that the Skeksis’ books could sometimes be useful (especially now that Jen had taught her to read), she still hated the thought of being grateful to them for something. 

“That must have been _very_ long ago. I can’t imagine any of those ones at the Castle going seafaring.” 

Which made her all the more hopeful for what they might find. 

* * *

Days were long in the far north this time of year. The suns continued to climb as the sea-tortle swam on, taking care to keep its passengers above the surface. Jen and Kira rode in silence most of the time - to talk was to invite a mouthful of salt spray. Their hair and clothes were already splashed with it, and it began to itch on their skin as the day went on. 

Yet the journey was not without beauty. The three suns glittered in rose and gold on the water, and mixed with blue and green in the icebergs they passed. Now and then, schools of hooyim fish danced above the waves; if Jen remembered correctly, these had once been the totem of the lost Sifa clan, who had kept the lighthouse. 

Finally, as the first of the suns started to dip below the horizon, he glimpsed it…

And his heart sank. 

The Tel-Ataq lighthouse had clearly not been maintained for many years. Wind and ice had stripped away the colorful scale-like tiles that once covered it, and had eroded cracks in the iron-gray stone underneath. The great rounded crystal that had once served as its beacon had been torn away in some long-ago storm, leaving only a few shards still glinting in the sunset. 

As the behemoth swam them to the remains of a stone pier, Jen tried (and failed) to hide his disappointment. “Maybe we shouldn’t have come. It looks so lifeless…”

“We can still take a look around,” Kira reassured him. “Maybe it’s a trick. The Podlings used to do things like that - make a village look abandoned so the Garthim wouldn’t bother coming. If someone’s watching, and they see we’re Gelfling too, they might come out.”

Once they were on shore, the barren island did not look any more inviting. They found the remains of what might have been a greenhouse, but whatever plants had managed to grow this far north had not lasted without a gardener to care for them. Even the lichen that had been so common along the northern coast was gone. 

And yet … why did they still feel there was life here?

Why did they feel they were being watched?

Once Jen and Kira were sure there was nothing to be found on the rest of the island (which did not take long, as empty as it was), they approached the huddle of small ruins around the lighthouse tower. These, they guessed, had once been temporary houses and places of trade for the seafarers who visited; when Kira touched the carvings on an ancient, weather-beaten plank, she could almost smell spices she had never tasted and had no name for. 

But the spices, and the ones who had brought them, were gone. 

“It’ll be dark soon,” she whispered, her heart heavy. They had made this journey, their longest one yet, and come up empty-handed again. “We can camp in the lighthouse, it should protect us from the wind.” 

A wooden door, broken but still heavy, lay across the tower’s entrance. It took both of them to shove it out of the way. They stepped into the darkened chamber, waited a moment to catch their breath - 

There was the sound of metal on stone, the sound of feet shuffling. A heartbeat later, heavy clawed hands seized them from all sides. 

“JEN!”

“KIR-”

Before he could finish, a thick cloth bag was yanked over his head, and he knew only darkness.

* * *

_**To Be Continued...** _


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( {"..."} indicates dialogue in Podling language. )

The two Gelfling struggled in vain. Whoever their captors were, they were each strong enough to lift a Gelfling across their shoulders. With their heads covered and their hands bound with heavy ropes, Jen and Kira could only wait, blind, as they were carried away. 

The sound of metal on stone came again. The bag muffled all sounds (and smushed his pointed ears uncomfortably), but Jen listened as best he could. Their captors - there seem to be three of them - were talking in a language that wasn’t Gelfling, Podling, or the primeval Thra-speech Aughra sometimes used. 

They seemed to be debating something. Whatever it was, it ended with Jen feeling himself being carried _down_. 

Even with almost every inch of his skin covered, he could feel the air growing warmer as they descended. He and Kira found themselves deposited (none too gently) on a stone floor, and then hauled to their knees by those heavy clawed hands. 

Last of all, the bags were yanked away. 

The Gelfling found themselves in a low-roofed cave. The mottled gray walls were too smooth and angled to have formed naturally; here and there, cut marks remained on the ceiling where stalactites had been removed. A series of strange devices ran along one wall: disks of thick, clouded glass, each holding a metal coil that glowed a soft yellow and gave light to the cave. Lines of copper cord connected each disk, and stretched away into a tunnel further down. 

Jen had never seen such devices before, and he gave them only the barest glance now. His attention was on Kira, kneeling beside him in the grip of one of their captors. 

“Kira! Are you all right?! Please,” he looked up at the creature, “don’t hurt her!”

“I’m fine.” Kira spat out a lock of blonde hair that had gotten in her mouth on the ride down. “Who are you?” she demanded of her captor. “Why are you doing this to us?”

The creatures were about the height of Gelfling, but more sturdily built. Their skin was as gray as the walls around them, and their faces were flat, with wide mouths and small, deep-set eyes. Like Podlings, they had two fingers and a thumb on each hand; unlike Podlings, though, their claws were enough to make the two Gelfling wary. 

“We don’t mean you any harm,” Jen insisted. “Please, we’re travelers. We came looking for other Gelfling.”

The creatures looked at each other, clearly unsure. They conversed among themselves, but the only word Jen recognized was ‘ghelflainnk’. 

He tried again, more slowly this time. “Do you speak Gelfling?”

The creatures watched him, frowning. Either they did not speak Gelfling, or they disliked the thought of talking to one. _Or both,_ Jen thought ruefully. 

Seeing that he was having no luck, Kira took a chance. “ _Apopiapoiopidiappididiapipob?”_ She couldn’t imagine how these creatures living under a frozen island would know Podling, but it was worth a try…

Their captors perked up in immediate surprise. They conversed again in their own tongue, and then the biggest of the three took off down the tunnel. 

“Well, that did _something._ ” Jen looked over at his beloved. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” In spite of their current circumstances, she smiled. “And so is the baby.”

They shared the fearful, unspoken thought: _for now._

* * *

It didn’t take long for the third creature to return. And when they did, they were not alone. 

Behind them marched an old Podling man. Like the creatures, he wore a loose gray-brown tunic and a battered leather hood - camouflage to match the rock around them, Kira now realized. Tufts of messy gray hair stuck out from under the hood. His face was lined with age and old scars, but his eyes were still wide and bright, and they grew wider when he saw Jen and Kira. 

{“I don’t believe it!”} He hurried over to them. {“Gelfling, actually showing up here! And you’re so _young!_ ”}

{“We came here to look for other Gelfling,”} Jen explained again. After seven trine of living with Kira and her family, he’d learned a great deal more Podling language than ‘fala vam’, though he still lagged behind Kira when it came to expressing anything deeper than day-to-day conversation. {“We did not know anyone else was here.”}

{“Please, tell them to let us go!”} Kira insisted. {“I don’t know why they did this to us, but we don’t mean them any harm!”}

The old Podling shook his head. {“I’ll ask them, but I can’t promise anything. The Gruenaks don’t have a good history with Gelfling.”}

He looked up at the much-taller creature behind him - a Gruenak, Jen and Kira now understood - and said something in their language. Although the Gelfling couldn’t understand him, his reassuring tone and shrug of his shoulders meant it was probably along the lines of ‘these little ones aren’t a threat, you can go easy on them’. 

The biggest Gruenak tilted their head, and looked the two Gelfling over curiously. The two still holding the Gelfling on their knees, however, were unmoved; when they spoke to the Podling, their answers were short and their voices curt. 

{“Tell them we are the last Gelfling in the world.”} It was a risk, Jen knew; if the Gruenaks disliked Gelfling so much, they might see this as a chance to wipe them out once and for all. But on the other hand, if their captors _did_ want them dead, why had they gone to the trouble of taking them prisoner at all? 

_We came on this journey to make friends,_ he thought. _Even if they aren’t Gelfling, we have to try._

The old Podling looked grim at Jen’s words, as if he was hearing something that he had already feared being confirmed. He turned to the Gruenaks again, and his voice grew both pleading and forceful. As he spoke, he gestured for emphasis, and his sleeve slid down. 

Jen and Kira's eyes widened. Some time in the past, the Podling’s left arm had been amputated just below the elbow. A metal cap covered the stump, and fixed to it, in place of a hand, was a carved driftwood spoon. 

The two Gruenaks were nearly twice the Podling’s size, but they seemed both touched and intimidated by his words. With no further prodding, they untied their captives. 

Jen and Kira embraced, each reassuring themselves that the other was safe. Comforted (but still wary of what might come), Kira gave the Podling a warm smile. {“Thank you very much, friend. I am Kira, and this is my mate, Jen. What’s your name?”}

The old Podling gave a courtly bow. {“Hup, at your service.”}

* * *

With their new friend acting as interpreter, Jen and Kira told their tale to the Gruenaks. How they had each grown up believing they were the last of their kind, how they had found each other and journeyed to the Castle at the moment of the Great Conjunction, and how they had healed the darkened Crystal and witnessed the reunion of the urSkeks - and had seen them depart Thra, with no sign they would ever return. 

In turn, they learned the story of the Gruenaks. The ones living here under Tel-Ataq (there were eleven of them, they discovered, not counting the three eggs currently in their communal nursery) were, as far as they knew, also the last of their kind. Many generations ago, their people had refused to submit to the Skeksis. Gruenak society, they explained, had no hierarchy or designated leaders; they made all decisions for their people as equals, and they were not about to follow the will of a foreign emperor. 

So Emperor skekSo had sent his best warriors - and their Gelfling allies - to destroy their race. One by one, their underground settlements had been purged, the survivors hunted down. It was all depressingly familiar to Jen and Kira, and it was all the more horrible to learn that their own people had helped in the slaughter. 

“No wonder they took us prisoner,” Jen now understood. “They thought we were here to kill them.”

Once the Gruenaks understood that the two young Gelfling truly hadn’t known about the bloody history between their races, they treated them more gently. The older ones, who still had memories of hiding from Sifa sailors, remained wary, but the younger ones were more open, and curious about the new captives-turned-guests. 

The big one who had first fetched Hup introduced herself as Roor Lenev. {“Gruenaks always knew about Tel-Ataq,”} Hup translated for her. {“They helped build it, long ago, before the Gelfling turned on them. When the Garthim War started, these ones came here, up through the tunnels.”}

{“But how did _you_ end up here?”} Kira insisted. {“I never heard of Podlings living this far north.”}

Hup’s face fell - it was clear he wasn’t looking forward to this part of the tale. {“You might not believe it, but I used to be a paladin under the Gelfling All-Maudra.”}

Kira gaped. {“You were a _warrior?_ ”} 

The idea was startling. Among the people she had grown up with, fighting in anything but immediate self-defense was abhorred. It was all right to take down Garthim and Crystal Bats, which weren’t really alive anyway, but living creatures were to be left in peace. For a Podling to seek out battle as a chosen way of life was very strange. 

Hup, however, sounded proud. {“Yes. And I fought with the Gelfling resistance for as long as I could. Even when a Garthim took my arm,”} he held up his prosthetic spoon, {“nothing stopped me.”}

His tone grew grim again. {“But it wasn’t enough. The Garthim kept coming. I lost … so many friends. In the end…”} He hesitated. Whatever the memory was, it was clearly more painful than the rest. {“One of them left me with a last request. But I failed. I couldn’t bear to stay after that.”} 

He sighed. {“Some of the last paladins decided to look for help across the Silver Sea. I went with them, but we ran into a storm. A _dark_ storm.”} His tone made it clear what he meant. {“Our ship went down. I washed up here, the Gruenaks found me, and I’ve been here ever since.”}

Jen hesitated. {“And … in all that time, no other Gelfling have come here?”}

Hup shook his head. {“The storms only got worse. Trying to sail would’ve been certain death.”}

{“But the storms have stopped now, yes?”} Jen went on. {“Seven trine have passed since we restored the Crystal. We have seen it - the Darkening is gone. Thra is healing.”}

Jen still knew little about the Darkening, that corrupting force that had once nearly killed their world. Growing up in the valley of the Mystics, their magic had kept it at bay, and he and Kira had been lucky enough not to encounter it on their quest. But he’d seen the dying wasteland the Bah-Lem Valley had been, and he’d heard the stories of powerful, unnatural storms and animals driven mad as their eyes glowed purple. 

{“You do not have to stay here. The world is … defended-”}

{“The world is _safe,_ ”} Kira corrected him. 

{“Right, the world is safe. You could go out and see it.”} He looked up at the Gruenaks, making it clear he was addressing them directly. “You too. You would be welcome.”

Even if they did not understand every word (the older Gruenaks, Jen had been told, still knew a smattering of Gelfling language), they clearly got the gist of what he was saying. The gathered Gruenaks conversed among themselves, apparently debating his offer. 

Finally, Roor Lenev stepped forward, and spoke in halting Podling. In the time Hup had lived among them, the learning of languages had evidently not been one-sided. {“You eat with us. We talk, and we decide.”}

* * *

They gathered for dinner in a bell-shaped cavern, lit by more of those glowing disks connected with wire. Jen, curious, made the mistake of trying to touch one, and received a burned finger for it. 

{“Careful!”} Roor Lenev spoke up. {“These take power from fire deep in Thra. Turn into light and heat.”}

Jen pressed his finger against the cool stone to soothe it. _I wish you’d told me that to start with._

To Kira’s disappointment, there were no ruva nuts at the meal. With no plants left on the island, the Gruenaks lived by collecting seaweed and shellfish from tidal caves. Together with the mushrooms they farmed, it made for a soup that was thick and nourishing, if more than a bit salty. 

In between eating with his spoon-arm, Hup went on talking with the Gelfling - mostly Kira. It seemed to bring him comfort when she told him how the Podlings were still growing strong, and rebuilding after the ravages of the war. 

{“It would be good to see my own people again. And I wouldn’t mind one last adventure while I’m still young,”} he joked. {“I think I _will_ go with you.”}

{“We’d be glad of your company,”} Kira said with a smile. 

The Gruenaks had been talking among themselves, but at last, Roor Lenev set her bowl down and turned to their visitors. {“I go too. I want to see Thra. See _Crystal._ If is … safe, I tell others, and more go.”}

The murmurs from the others suggested they didn’t all agree with this decision, but they made no sign of stopping her. 

Jen smiled. While he might miss having so much time to be alone with his mate on their travels, he knew the journey was only going to grow more difficult and dangerous as Kira’s pregnancy went on. The more friends they had to help them on the way, the better. 

“All right. Together, then.” 

* * *

The sea-tortle had swum away during the night, so Roor Lenev proposed another way back. 

Down at the bottom of the caves the Gruenaks called home, she showed them where the carved-out passages gave way to natural tunnels in the earth. {“These go all through Thra. We come through when I was childling, to island. Now _we_ go.”}

Jen, remembering when Hup had said the Gruenaks arrived on Tel-Ataq, did some quick mental math, and realized this meant she wasn’t much older than himself and Kira. {“Roor Lenev-”}

The female Gruenak gave a little smile as she raised her finger, correcting him. {“ _Lenev_. I am Lenev. Roor is name of place where I hatch and grow. Place of …”} She glanced at Hup, stuck on the right word. 

{“Place of clan,”} Hup offered. It wasn’t an exact translation, but it was clear enough for the Gelfling. 

{“Then, you weren’t born here?”} Kira asked. {“Where did you live before that?”}

{“We live on big land, near sea. When I was egg, Gelfling come. They take my … parents,”} she hesitated, unsure of the word. {“Other Gruenaks run, take my egg. We stay in tunnels after.”}

Kira exchanged a look with Jen. {“And … you don’t hate Gelfling for it?”}

Lenev shrugged. {“I never see Gelfling before you come. Only stories. _You_ are not Gelfling take my parents. Life is more … important, than hate.”} With a wry look, she added something to Hup in her own language. 

The old Podling said something in return that was half fond, half scolding, and then translated. {“She says, ‘And it’s hard to hate the Gelfling anymore, now that we outnumber them’.”}

As they followed their new companions into the depths, those words hung heavy on Jen and Kira. 

Seven journeys, to the farthest known corners of Thra. Seven trine of searching, of _hoping._ And now, it seemed, it had all been for nothing. 

They truly were the last Gelfling in the world. 

* * *

With no suns or moons to watch, the travelers had only the rhythms of their bodies to measure time by. They ate when they were hungry, rested when they grew weary. It was a strange way to live, and Jen could scarcely imagine what it must be like for Lenev, to have spent her whole life underground. 

They left the Gruenaks’ strange disk-lights behind early on, but Lenev had brought something like them: a ball of glass on a thick copper rod, that gave light when she cranked a handle. It was a noisy, cumbersome thing, and Jen was glad his eyes had adjusted so quickly that he seldom needed it. 

The journey was dark, but it wasn’t as uncomfortable as he’d expected. The air stayed warm, which was a nice change from the past weeks. When gusts came up through the tunnels, they smelled of hot stone and steam - _alive,_ almost, like the breath of a living thing. 

And there was other life, too. Even down here, far beneath the planet, creatures burrowed, flowered, and lived their lives among the veins of rock and crystal. Some were pale and blind, while others glowed like underground stars, but they all knew the song of Thra. Whenever Lenev was unsure of what turn to take, Kira spoke to the small crawling things around them, and they would guide her towards fresher air. 

When their route had begun to turn perceptibly upwards, Hup came across a vast patch of glow-moss. {“We must be getting near Grot now. This … this is a garden. Or it used to be…”}

He trailed off, and Jen and Kira realized the old Podling was crying. 

* * *

When they rested later, after collecting some of the fresh glow-moss, Hup told them what had come over him. 

{“I told you about the Gelfling friends I lost in the war,”} he said, as the other three gathered around. {“One of them, Deet … she was my best friend. My _everything._ She was one of the Grottan clan, and she taught me about glow-moss.”}

From what Jen could tell, it sounded like Hup’s feelings might have run deeper than friendship, but he did not push the subject. He kept his tone gentle as he asked, {“What happened to her?”}

{“The Garthim didn’t get her, if that’s what you’re thinking.”} Hup sounded bitterly proud of this. {“She and her mate, and some of the other Gelfling leaders … they decided to make one last attack on the Castle. Deet wasn’t a warrior, but she had this … power.”} He huffed. {“It was a curse more than anything, but she thought it could stop the Skeksis for good. But it didn’t. And she and the others never came back.”}

Kira chose her next words carefully. {“I don’t mean to be rude, but if you were a warrior, why didn’t you go with them?”}

{“I wanted to, but Deet gave me another task. She and her mate … they had a son. He was just a baby at the time. She asked me to look after him. And I did, until the Garthim came again.”}

Hup scratched his spoon-arm against the ground. The memory was bitter, but he made himself tell it. {“We were in a Gelfling village. I left him with some of them while I went out to fight the Garthim. When I finally made it back … everything was in ruins, and he and the others were gone. The Garthim took them all.”}

{“And that’s when you left on the ship.”} Jen could tell there was much the old Podling was probably leaving out of the tale, but this part had clearly been painful enough. As curious as he was to learn more about the long-ago Gelfling resistance, now wasn’t the time. 

{“Yes,”} Lenev chimed in. She put a large, comforting arm around Hup, and he leaned into the hug gratefully. {“I was child when Hup come to Tel-Ataq. He was sad, but, he was nice. Teach me Podling. Teach me to fight with spoon. Be my parent.”}

{“Yes, that did help.”} Hup’s expression warmed as he remembered. To Jen and Kira, he explained, {“Gruenaks don’t form families the same way Gelfling and Podling do. They raise all their children together. The young ones know who their egg came from, but that’s not always the ones who take care of them the most. Or who _they_ care for the most.”}

{“I understand what you mean.”} Kira smiled as she scooted in closer. {“That’s how I feel about Ydra. I remember a little of my Gelfling mother, but Ydra was the one who raised me, and taught me about life. When I think of ‘parent’, I think of her.”}

Jen was the last to speak. What he wanted to say was too much for his limited command of Podling to express, so he switched to Gelfling, and hoped Hup still remembered enough to understand. 

“I don’t remember anything about my Gelfling family. Sometimes I think I do, but sometimes I think it might just be a dream, or something I _wish_ had happened. But I remember my master, urSu, and the other Mystics. Even though we were so different, I remember how loved I felt when I was with them - urSu most of all.” Jen swallowed. “I never called him ‘father’, but that’s what he was.” 

_And I still miss him, and the others._

They sat together for some time, four people who had each lost one family, but gained another. And, for that time, they each felt a little less alone. 

* * *

**_To Be Continued ..._ **


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dermag is an OC created by my longtime friend Kooshmeister, who had the initial core idea for this story and will be fully credited in future chapters (when doing so won't involve spoilers!). He's used here with permission :)

A warm spell had come to the Bah-Lem Valley. As night fell, the heat of the day still hung steamy in the air, and the Castle’s residents were glad of whatever magic it was that kept its crystalline walls pleasantly cool. 

With the last of the suns gone down, the Castle emitted its own soft white glow. Most of the flowers that filled the Crystal Chamber had closed, but those that bloomed by night were now opening in their turn. In the light of the First Sister, a swarm of firebugs floated their way down through the open ceiling hatches, and bobbed around the heads of Teba and the two Podlings with her. 

The one beside her, whose name was Dermag, barely took notice. {“She hasn’t moved since last night. How long is she going to stay like this?”}

The ‘she’ in question was Aughra. The ancient sage sat cross-legged before the floating Crystal, her hands folded in a pose of meditation. Her primary remaining eye was closed, but the third, strange one in the middle of her forehead glowed a faint yellow, like a dying ember. Only that, and the rise and fall of breath, gave sign that she was still alive. 

It had been like this for many days now, ever since Teba had first alerted her. For hours upon hours, she would send her consciousness to a place the Podlings could not follow, seeking the source of the voice coming through the Crystal. The first few times, she had awakened crabby and frustrated, but more lately she seemed to be making progress, if the lack of grumbling was anything to go by. 

As the Podlings watched, the firebugs landed to rest on her hair and horns. Their lights began to pulse in time with her breathing. 

And, deep within the Crystal, the mote of golden light shone again, and the voice rang out. High and deep by turns, warbling then reverberating, rising and falling and rising again…

Aughra’s eye snapped open, and the song ended. 

“So it’s _you._ ” She sounded impressed. “That explains a lot. Always did wonder where you ended up. And you still managed it! Well, good for you. Not sure how much good it’ll do you now, but good for you.” 

Teba and her companions exchanged glances, trying to decide which of them would address her. In the end, Dermag was the one who asked, {“You were able to reach whatever’s been singing?”}

“Not what.” Aughra’s gaze was still on the Crystal. “ _Who._ I didn’t think I’d ever hear from him again. But then, he never did know when to give up. Should’ve guessed he’d find some way to make himself heard, even now.” 

But before she could tell the three Podlings more, a fourth one came running into the Crystal Chamber. “ _Ama_ Aughra, _Ama_ Aughra…!”

He tripped on a thick vine, and went tumbling across the floor. Only a quick move from Aughra’s walking stick stopped him at the edge of the net of roots that had grown over the fiery shaft. 

“Slow down! What’s got you in such a hurry? Can’t be enough for you to risk a fall like _that_ one.” 

Panting (and with a fearful glance at the barely-covered shaft), the Podling hopped to his feet. “ _Ama_ Aughra, Gelfling return! They in village! They … not alone…”

“Well why didn’t you say so!” Aughra hauled herself up with a grunt. Finally taking notice of the firebugs perched all over her, she waved them away, not unkindly. “Shoo! All of you shoo. Go bother the flowers.” 

* * *

Down in the village, Jen and Kira had found themselves and their two traveling companions quickly surrounded by delighted Podlings welcoming them back. 

Leading the welcoming party was Kira’s beloved fizzgig. The fur around his face had gone gray in the past seven trine, he’d lost a few of his impressive teeth, and his rolling was slower than it had been, but he barked as loudly as ever as he came to greet his mistress.

“I missed you too, Fizzgig,” Kira laughed as she scooped him into her arms. It took her a moment to figure out how to hold him while leaving room for her pregnant belly, which made the fuzzy creature take notice of it. His yellow eyes widened, and he began sniffing her furiously. 

Roor Lenev, who had never seen a fizzgig before, pointed a wary claw at the toothy little beast. {“She … in danger?”}

Hup chuckled. {“No, but anyone who tries to harm her will be! It’s been a long time since I saw a fizzgig, and that looks like a good, loyal one.”}

{“He is.”} Jen approached, and held out a hand for Fizzgig to sniff. He’d warmed up to the male Gelfling since their first meeting, but his bond with Kira would always be stronger, and he quickly turned his attention back to her. {“He used to come with us on our journeys, before he grew old.”}

It had been a hard decision for them, when they realized they couldn’t bring Fizzgig on their adventures anymore. As loyal and brave as he was, the long days of walking and sleeping rough were growing too hard on his paws and joints. After they’d returned from their last journey with him too stiff and exhausted even to roll, they’d agreed he deserved to spend his remaining trine in a soft bed by a warm hearth. If that meant he had to spend part of those trine without Kira by his side … well, she’d take comfort knowing he was safe and cared for. 

Ydra wasn’t far behind him. The old Podling woman greeted her adoptive daughter with a delighted embrace, and exclaimed in surprise and joy when she saw her now-visible pregnancy. {“Kira, this is wonderful. Congratulations! I know how much you always wanted a family of your own.”}

Kira had been beaming ear to ear as they hugged, but at those words, her smile faded. {“...Ydra, meet our new friends. This is Hup, and Lenev of the Gruenaks.”}

Hup gave a charming grin as he bowed. {“Lady Ydra. Glad to make your acquaintance again.”}

Ydra gaped for a moment, then laughed. {“Why, Sir Hup! I never dreamed I’d see you again.”}

Jen glanced between them. {“You … know each other?”}

{“That we did.”} Ydra gave the other Podling a friendly clap on the shoulder. {“You don’t forget the only Podling paladin in history. He used to come to our village, calling up support for the resistance.”}

{“And you always gave what you could.”} Hup turned to Kira. {“Your mother and her clan were great allies to the Gelfling.”}

Kira, remembering how Ydra had always warned her away from the Gelfling ruins near their village and had been reluctant to talk about the war at all, was stunned. She’d known her mother must have _some_ good memories of Gelfling for her to adopt one, but she’d never imagined Ydra was part of the resistance. 

_Why did you never tell me?_ she found herself wondering. 

The gathered Podlings peppered them with questions for a bit longer, before a gruff female voice carried through them. “Out of my way, out of my way! I get to talk to them now!”

“Aughra!” Jen greeted her warmly, and she returned a smile. 

“Good to see you back safely, Jen. And Kira! My, you certainly _are_ returning with more Gelfling,” she teased, with a nod at Kira’s belly. 

When her gaze turned on Lenev, she gasped. “And a _Gruenak!_ Thought all of you were dead! Well,” she chuckled, “if I was wrong about Gelfling, why not Gruenaks too? Glad to see Thra can still sometimes surprise even Aughra!”

Lenev, who had been looking helplessly at Hup for how she should react to this strange horned crone talking loudly at her, settled for copying his earlier example and bowing. 

Last of all, Aughra turned to Hup. “And you, last soldier of the resistance that was. This is indeed a day for the past coming back.”

The old Podling gave her a small, playful salute with his spoon-arm. 

{“We have to celebrate!”} Ydra declared. Grabbing Kira and Jen’s hands, she pulled them towards the heart of the village, leaving the others little choice but to follow. For all she was smaller than the Gelfling, the Podling woman could be almost as much a force of nature as Aughra when she wanted to. 

{“It’ll be all right,”} Hup reassured the still-wary Lenev. {“Come on. You haven’t had real fun until you’ve been to a Podling party!”}

* * *

It would be difficult to travel the space-time path between Crystals without the energy from a Conjunction on at least one end. 

Difficult, but not impossible. Even an immortal race could not always afford to wait the centuries it would otherwise take to travel between solar systems, and in the many Ages the urSkeks had been a spacefaring people, they had found ways of bending the known rules of the universe to make their explorations easier. 

It was just a matter of planning. 

“I still say we should wait,” ZokZah addressed the others as they gathered in their shared residence. “The solstice of the Primary Sun is a day of great reverence. There’ll be too many pilgrims around the Crystal.”

“And we can use that to our advantage,” UngIm insisted. “The rest of us will enter in the crowd with the other visitors. We’ll draw less attention among so many. While the guards are distracted in prayer, you two,” he turned to ShodYod and EktUtt, “will make the preparations. Once that’s done, we only have to be in place when the moment comes.”

ShodYod’s corona turned dim and hazy with self-doubt. “I wish we had TekTih with us. I’ve made the best calculations I can, but he could’ve done better.” 

“If we had TekTih and the others, we wouldn’t be doing any of this in the first place,” EktUtt quipped. “Have some confidence in yourself. You’re an excellent arithmetician, and _I’m_ an excellent designer. It _will_ work!”

ZokZah’s gray corona made it clear he still wasn’t convinced. “I’ll do what I can to keep the other ritualists occupied, and join you when the time is right. But if that fails…”

UngIm turned his piercing white eyes on the Ritualist. “Yes, then we seven will go without you. But you must not let it come to that! We made the last journey as eight, and we will be stronger if we do so again! Do not fail us!” 

The volume in his own voice startled him. And he saw by the wary rippling of coronas that it had startled the others too. 

“... I understand that, Physician. But all the same…”

UngIm realized now what was really troubling the other urSkek. Abashed, he dimmed his corona and lowered his voice. “ZokZah … I apologize. You are a valued part of this mission, but I do not mean to force you into it.” He turned to the others. “Or any of you. I appreciate that you still look to me as our leader, but I am not an emperor, and you are not my subjects. If any of you wish to turn away now, you are free to do so, with no ill will from me.” 

A long moment of silence passed between the eight. They all remembered another time, over two thousand trine ago, when SoSu had said very similar words the night before they set out to enact his mysterious new design on the Crystal. 

None of them had questioned it then, as shameful as it was to remember looking back. They had all been too swayed by the then-Councillor, with his charisma, his enchanting voice, and the dreams of being _special_ he had awakened in each of them. When his disciples had listened to SoSu, they had believed he really could change their world for the better ... and that personal glory would be theirs for helping him. 

And it had all ended in disaster. 

Caught, branded as heretics, banished to a primitive world on the far side of the galaxy. A thousand trine spent cut off from the warmth and light of their people. And then, watching as their own dark urges broke free and wrought another thousand trine of death and ruin on the innocent, while what they had believed were their better selves did nothing to stop them. 

Now they were planning to go back to that world, with a mad and half-formed plan to contact the dead, and no guarantee it would succeed. 

SilSol was the first to speak. “...I confess, I do have reservations. But I cannot see any other way. Whatever is devouring the other worlds will reach us soon, and if we do not find a way to stop it, it will go after Thra too.” He bowed his head, avoiding the others’ eyes. “We owe it to them to try.”

“He’s right,” AyukAmaj spoke up. “The Council’s let this … stellar gluttony run unchecked for too long. If we can’t undo the damage it’s already done, we should at least find a way to stop the Devouring before it consumes anyone else.”

Until now, none of them had put a name to whatever was erasing Crystal-bearing worlds, but the Culinarian’s choice seemed fitting enough. In each of their minds, it now took on an identity: the Devouring. 

UngIm stretched one long, slender arm out to the others. In his hand, he conjured a piece of his own aura, the ball of light pulsing in matching color and time with his corona. “Then, are we in this together?”

SilSol reached out his own hand, and the light doubled in size as their auras joined. “We are.” 

“We are.” ShodYod added his aura to theirs. 

One by one - AyukAmaj, NaNol, EktUtt, and OkAc - they each joined their auras in agreement. UrSkeks used their telekinetic gifts so much, it was rare for one of them to ever touch another’s corporeal form, and the sensation as their hands brushed now was strange. 

Strange, but comforting and welcome. 

“Well?” UngIm finally addressed the Ritualist. “What do you say?”

ZokZah hesitated one last time … and then joined his aura too, shining and warm. 

“We are.” 

* * *

It was a tricky process for a pilgrim to gain access to the Crystal, especially on such a holy day as the Primary Solstice. Thousands of urSkeks would have loved the chance, but they could never all fit on the crystalline hill by the sea. And, as SoSu had proven, even fewer could be trusted. 

Fortunately, ZokZah knew exactly what to say to win his friends a place among the visitors. 

“Most gracious and exalted Councillor,” he intoned, as he dimmed his corona in submission before SharSet. “I come before you on behalf of my fellow once-Fallen. Like myself, they strive every day for the good of all our kind, and to erase the darkness within them. I believe a pilgrimage on the approaching solstice would help bring their spirits peace. Please, let them show their repentance. Let them ask the Crystal itself for forgiveness.” 

SharSet’s face remained impassive, but the flickering of her corona told him she was considering it. 

“Yes…” The senior Councillor steepled her hands. “That _would_ be appropriate.” 

She looked out from the balcony where they now stood, in the western Tower of Administration. When she spoke again, it was in the cool, slightly haughty tone of someone who was paying a sincere compliment, but did not want the receiver to forget their place. “I always did appreciate the insight you brought to your devotions, ZokZah. If you had not been swayed by … heresy,” she emphasized the word carefully, “I like to think we might have brought you into the Council one day.” 

_Heresy…_

ZokZah struggled to keep his corona steady and prevent it from betraying his thoughts. He succeeded, thanks to many centuries of practice, but inside, in the private core of his mind where not even the most powerful Inquisitors could reach, he remembered the sound of an iron nail piercing bone, and the smell of blood. 

“You flatter me to say so, Councillor. It would have been an honor, to be sure, but I’m afraid my place will always be in overseeing the orisons and spiritual wellbeing of our people. After all, if our spirits are not in balance, nothing else can be.” 

“Well said indeed. Very well,” SharSet said at last, “your comrades may attend the ceremony. I’ll inform the other Councillors of my decision.” 

* * *

The procession up to the Crystal wound a long and spiralling path. Up the smooth slopes of the hill overlooking the sea, through towering columns and arches of lesser crystal and stone, and finally to the flat, glass-smooth crown of the hill, where the living heart of their world hung suspended by its own gravity above a dais of smaller crystals, glowing white in the late afternoon light of the suns. 

UngIm and his six comrades did their best to pass unnoticed among the dozens of other pilgrims. So far, they seemed to be succeeding; after all, this procession had occurred without incident for thousands of trine, and those present now had no reason to expect today would be any different. 

Even so, a pair of guards watched each visitor as they passed through the final Arch of the Narthex. 

“Remember,” SilSol kept this voice to a faint murmur in the minds of the others, “we are here as penitents. Keep yourselves as humble as possible. If they question us, let me do the talking.” 

OkAc rolled his eyes - a habit that still lingered from the centuries he had spent in two flesh and blood forms, and one that was wasted now thanks to their blank whiteness. “You don’t need to remind us. I’ve consulted the records, I know how…”

The Chronicler trailed off as he saw what was happening. 

A few places ahead of them in line, a pilgrim was wearing a synthsilk ribbon tied in a bow around a branch of their _thalli._ It was a bright blue and yellow, like light rippling on water, rather than the red and violet EktUtt had crafted seven trine ago, but the pattern on the fabric was unmistakably the same. 

OkAc whisper-hissed at the Designer, “More of your work?”

“No.” EktUtt, the others saw, was just as surprised as they were. “I remember every bit of material I’ve ever crafted, and that isn’t one of them.” His corona brightened. “But it does look nice.” 

“The guards don’t seem to think so,” UngIm remarked. They watched as the beribboned pilgrim was stopped at the Arch of the Narthex. The guards led him aside, exchanging words the seven could not hear, but could guess well enough. With a corona so dim it was nearly invisible, the pilgrim surrendered their ribbon. 

“I don’t understand,” OkAc whispered again. “You only wore that thing for one day.” 

EktUtt and AyukAmaj exchanged a glance, and the Designer admitted, “Well … not exactly. It seemed like we weren’t being watched so closely this past trine, so I’ve put new ones on a few more times when I was out in the city.” Apparently feeling the others were judging him, he added, “What of it? I’m only trying to bring more beauty to our world!”

If that truly was his intention, UngIm thought, it seemed he was succeeding. When the Physician looked at the procession behind them, he could see a few others wearing ribbons in different colors. 

What was more, they were adding their own individual touches to it. Some wore their ribbons floating in long streamers, while others wrapped them high and tight around a _thallus._ One, UngIm was impressed to see, had even tied a silver flower into the ribbon. 

Whether or not he had meant to, the Designer had started something. 

… Well, they would deal with whatever consequences might come from that later. 

The incident with the pilgrim seemed to have worked to the seven’s advantage, at least, for the guards only gave them a cursory look-over before allowing them through the Arch of the Narthex. If they noticed that ShodYod and EktUtt’s white robes hung a little heavier and glittered a little more brightly than the others’, they gave no sign of it. 

Once they were past the Narthex, the seven joined the vast crowd of pilgrims thronging the open hilltop around the Crystal. Near the dais, they could see ZokZah gathered with the other ritualists in formation. UngIm flared his corona, signaling their presence - on the next note of prayer, ZokZah turned his own corona a deeper gold in response. 

_All is well. The plan can proceed._

As the Primary Sun inched closer to the horizon, ShodYod and EktUtt quietly (the latter making great effort to be so) drifted to the far edge of the crowd, following the sinking sun. There, two vast crystalline columns, etched with the symbols and star-writing of the ancient urSkek language, framed the place where the sun would align at the last moment of daylight. 

The Arithmetician and Designer each slipped behind a column. They raised their hands in matching formation, coronas muted in concentration…

Twin clouds of fine crystalline powder floated up from the material of their robes. The clouds joined, swirling as the two urSkeks controlled them, condensing the particles into a new form the way a new planet might take shape from the dust of space.

While they worked, the others kept watch among the other pilgrims. None gave any sign of having seen what they were up to, and UngIm was not entirely surprised. 

The Primary Solstice was a day when urSkeks paid homage to tradition, but it was also something more. Here, in the presence of the holy Crystal, even when surrounded by others, they could each be alone inside their own minds. When they approached the Crystal, they could speak to it from their own hearts, without disapproval from the Council or the Enforcers. There was no judgment here, no fear that your secret prayers and wishes might go against the will of the collective. 

When it was only you and the Crystal, you could be your true self. 

And even now, with their mission weighing on the eight’s minds, it was a powerful thing to feel. 

_We have to succeed,_ UngIm thought, as the light shone warm upon him and he felt a wave of love and reverence. _We already did so much harm to one Crystal. We can’t let any more be lost._

At last, the gathered pilgrims parted in long-practiced formation, leaving an open path between the Crystal and the setting Primary Sun. The Ritualists took up their own positions, with ZokZah forming the point of their triangle closest to the sun. 

The Ritualists intoned as one, their strong voices carrying over the crowd. _“Now, as the Greater Light begins to depart, let us join our song as one. Let us sing in memory of the Light that is lost, and in honor of the Light that is to come. Let us remember-”_

“It’s _you_ who should remember.”

UngIm froze as the voice cut through the invocation. 

The voice he knew all too well. 

The crowd parted with dimmed coronas as KalPol moved through them like a cresting wave. With him came SharSet, and flanking them … UngIm’s heart dropped as he recognized FerLhar and MbasMbet, the joint commanders of the Enforcers. 

A squad of subordinate Enforcers followed them. 

“Councillor KalPol!” ZokZah raised his voice in disapproval. “This is against all decorum-”

“ _You_ will be silent when a Councillor speaks, Ritualist.” SharSet’s tone was icy, and there was no missing that she had used his title, not his name. She turned to her younger companion. “It seems your suspicions were right. They are not so repentant as they would have us believe.”

A mortal curse UngIm had learned many centuries ago came back to him now: _oh shit._

KalPol approached him, still flanked by the Enforcer Commanders. “Indeed, esteemed Senior Councillor. These eight are as much a danger to our society as ever. They present a face of compliance, but their hearts hold dark secrets.”

“We have no secrets!” This time, UngIm didn’t bother trying to hide his anger. If he was going to be accused here in public, where the Councillors no doubt hoped to make an example of him, then by the Crystal he was going to defend himself and his friends. “Ever since our return, we have sought nothing but good for all urSkeks!”

KalPol’s corona glowed as gray as a smoking fire - not only was he disagreeing, he was smug about it. “You say that now, but your actions tell otherwise.” 

He beckoned to MbasMbet, and from her robes, she produced a handful of ribbons. 

EktUtt and ShodYod had discreetly emerged from behind the columns as soon as they heard KalPol’s arrival. At the sight of the ribbons, the Designer’s corona lit up in guilty surprise, and the Councillor turned his piercing stare on him. 

“You would interrupt the Solstice ceremony over a few scraps of cloth?” UngIm growled. 

“These,” KalPol struck out with a swipe of telekinetic energy, casting the ribbons out of MbasMbet’s hand, “are but a symbol of what you Fallen are doing. You are doing just what you did before: spreading disharmony. Spreading _corruption._ For Ages beyond counting, urSkeks have kept ourselves and our ways in perfect balance, and now _you_ would upset that balance!”

A soft _mmmmm_ rose beside UngIm. “If it can be upset so easily by a few bits of ribbon,” SilSol spoke up, “perhaps the balance is not as perfect as Councillor KalPol believed.”

It was clear from the brief flicker of shadow in his corona that KalPol hadn’t been expecting the Cantor to challenge him. He hesitated, but only for a moment, and the realization that he had done so in front of over a hundred watching pilgrims made him even angrier. 

“You _still_ dare to question the will of all our kind...”

“Only the will of the _Council,_ ” SilSol countered smoothly. “Particularly the will of Councillor KalPol. That and the will of all urSkeks may perhaps be different things.”

KalPol hesitated again, and UngIm understood what was happening. SilSol was turning the power of his voice - that versatile, mesmerizing, nigh-supernatural voice that could move mountains as easily as it could turn lies into truth - on not just KalPol and his cronies, but all those in the crowd watching. 

And it was working. 

Murmurs of disapproval rippled through the pilgrims, and they were not all directed at the eight. Coronas dimmed and flared by turns, in a panoply of confused colors. 

SharSet, seeing the reaction of the crowd, dimmed her corona for an instant in something close to fear. But she had not become the most senior of the Council for nothing, and she asserted control again with a flash of her corona as bright as a solar flare. 

_“ENOUGH!”_ The crowd fell silent, and she glared at UngIm. “When your Ritualist asked me to let you attend the ceremony, I did not want to believe you might have an ulterior motive. I wanted to believe you were repentant, and had achieved unity with our kind again. I truly did want that.” 

“You have abused the Council’s good will for the last time,” KalPol went on, drawing even closer. “We know what your Arithmetician has been doing.”

ShodYod froze, but before he could say anything, SilSol spoke again. “And what, exactly, is that? Councillor KalPol brings many accusations, but I have not heard him say anything clear. Could it be he has nothing clear to say?”

Beside him, UngIm risked a glance past KalPol, to the two columns where EktUtt and ShodYod stood. In the space between them, he could see the horizon, perfectly split between sea and sky. As the Primary Sun slowly began to touch the edge of the water, the image curved…

_Yes! They did it!_

The specially crafted crystalline focusing disk, delicate but powerful, and nigh-invisible from this angle, was in place. 

_This can still work,_ UngIm thought. _Keep him talking, SilSol. Just a few more minutes, that’s all we need…_

With his back to the setting sun, KalPol rounded on the Cantor. “Your Arithmetician looks for problems where there are none. He stares at faraway stars when his time would be put to better use here on our own world. We ended our interstellar exploration nearly an Age ago, precisely because there was no longer anything of use for us to learn! We are an ageless culture, with all the wisdom of the galaxy preserved in our records. Whatever might still lie undiscovered now would only bring chaos.”

“And yet,” SilSol’s voice grew cold, “you believe there still _is_ something to be discovered.”

His words were baited, and KalPol, full of righteous anger and eager to be listened to, took the bait. 

“Nothing of _value!_ Your Arithmetician would have you believe in some phantom Star-Shadow -”

“The Devouring.”

KalPol paused. “What?”

“We call it the Devouring. Not the Star-Shadow. That is _your_ name for it.”

The Councillor gaped, realizing what he had said. And, UngIm saw, SharSet also froze in realization. 

“You _do_ know about it!” The tips of the Physician’s teeth showed in his anger. “You _know_ our world is in danger! And you have done _nothing!_ ”

“Do not presume that which you know nothing about!” SharSet’s attention was half on him, half on the crowd. “Have faith in your Council. If you had but approached us, we could have reassured you. We have had a plan in place for an Age -”

“Then why have you kept it secret?” The others were surprised, and impressed, to hear ShodYod show enough courage to challenge the urSkek leader. “I asked while I was conducting my studies. No one knew of the thing I was seeking, or any plan to guard against it.” 

“Some matters can only be handled by the Council,” KalPol declared imperiously. “That is why we _have_ a Council. We make the hardest decisions, for all of you, because we are the only ones who _can._ ” He turned to the Enforcers. “Enough of this. Take them to the holding chambers.”

The sun dipped below the horizon…

The focusing crystal lit up, and a beam of green-gold light shot across the still-empty stretch of ground. It struck the Crystal at an upward angle, and by the way the pure white light brightened, the eight knew ShodYod’s calculations and EktUtt’s designs had worked. 

Before the stunned Enforcers could seize them, the eight shed their corporeal forms and leapt into the beam, one by one. They would only have a moment before the Primary Sun set completely and its borrowed power was cut off, but a moment would be all they needed. 

UngIm stayed until last. “If you won’t act to save our world,” he growled coldly at the two Councillors, “then _we_ will.”

And with that, he joined his brothers on the path of light between Crystals. They moved through the triangular space between spaces, the time between time, journeying the impossibly vast span between worlds in the blink of an eye. 

Journeying back to Thra. 

* * *

**_To Be Continued..._ **


	5. Chapter 5

Podlings never needed much of an excuse to turn one of their nightly feasts into a rolicking party. The return of the Gelfling travelers, the return of one of their own long thought lost, the discovery that another of Thra’s lost races still lived, and the news of a new baby to come into the world all deserved to be celebrated in their own right; together, they were cause for a long night of food, drink, and most of all, music. 

Aughra excused herself from the festivities early on, but not before she’d taken the time to hear Jen and Kira’s account of their travels. While she was disappointed to hear they still hadn’t found any surviving Gelfling, she urged them not to give up hope. 

“Thra still has plenty of secrets to be discovered. Even Aughra cannot guess them all,” she’d said as she prepared to head back to the Castle. Then, remembering, she’d added, “Speaking of! Meet me tomorrow morning, in the Crystal Chamber. I found out something _very_ interesting tonight.”

Puzzled, Jen asked, “Are you sure you don’t want us to come now?”

“No, no, not yet. Still have a few questions of my own to answer first. You both need to rest. Have some fun while you’re still young.” With one last good-natured huff, she departed into the night. 

Once Aughra was no longer occupying their attention, Ydra launched into a long spiel on all she knew about Gelfling pregnancy, which turned out to be fairly extensive. {“You’ll want to start drinking more nebrie milk. It’s good for the joints, and it’ll help the baby grow nice and plump. When your belly gets sore from stretching, there’s a balm made of dyillorkin root and curram-butter that’s supposed to help. From the look of it, you’re maybe halfway along, so you can keep coupling for a few more unum if you’re careful…”}

Kira gave Jen an affectionate nudge over her second bowl of ruva nuts. “See? I told you that was all right.”

Jen flattened his ears in embarrassment, and hoped his face wasn’t as red as it felt. When he and Kira had first become lovers, it hadn’t bothered him that she’d been with another boy first (far from it - he’d been grateful at least _one_ of them knew what they were doing), nor had he thought of sex as something shameful or to be kept secret. 

Rather, it was his own lack of knowledge that embarrassed him. As a child, when he’d come to urSu and the other Mystics with a child’s curiosity about where babies and new life came from, they’d answered him truthfully, but only in the barest way. And they’d been still less helpful as he grew even older and had even _more_ questions. UrRu were very different creatures from Gelfling, with different bodies and different concepts of gender, and none of them had ever been as young as he was - there were many things they simply did not know, and could not tell him. 

As with so many other things, it had fallen to Kira to teach him about love between mates. She was everything he could have dreamed of, and he liked to think that, even if they had grown up in a world full of other Gelfling, they would still have found and chosen each other. They had never held a marriage ceremony (despite Ydra suggesting it more than once), simply because they saw no need for one. They were each other’s, in a way few people ever had the chance to be, and no power on Thra could break that. 

Yes, the two of them had found happiness … but would their child ever have the same chance?

He watched as Kira and Ydra went on swapping stories from their time apart, and as Lenev let Dermag coax her out on the dance floor (dancing was a new concept for the female Gruenak, but fortunately Podlings cared more about enthusiasm than they did about matching every step). It was certainly possible for people from Thra’s different races to find family, friendship, and love with each other, but it did not change that they _were_ different, and that it was lonely being the only one of your kind. 

As the night went on, those thoughts continued to gnaw at Jen. And, as he watched her, he could tell something was troubling Kira too. 

When the hour had grown late enough that many of the Podlings had gone to bed, she finally gave voice to what was on her mind. The musicians had put down their instruments for the night, and the dim, smoky room was quiet, except for a few giggles as Lenev entertained some stay-up-lates by using her copper light-rod to make shadow puppets. 

{“Ydra…”} Kira addressed the old Podling, where she sat next to Hup. {“There’s something I don’t understand. You told me there used to be a long friendship between Podling and Gelfling. And Hup said you used to help them in their fight against the Skeksis. But … when I was little, you never wanted to tell me about it when I asked. You told me Gelfling places weren’t safe, that bad things would happen if I went to them.”}

Ydra’s usual jolly demeanor faded. This, Kira realized, was a question she’d probably been expecting for some time now, and one she wasn’t looking forward to answering. 

{“I know that wasn’t easy for you, Kira, and I’m sorry for it. But it was the only way I could think of to keep you safe. The Crystal Bats were thicker than ever in those days, when they were hunting down the last Gelfling. Gelfling villages would’ve been the first place they’d look. And-”}

She hesitated, and glanced at Hup. He gave her a “go ahead” nod, but Ydra still said nothing. 

{“And _what?_ ”} Kira insisted. {“What aren’t you telling me?”}

Ydra sighed. {“... I can’t be sure about this, Kira, but I think they would’ve been looking for _you_ especially.”}

Hup gave Ydra a comforting squeeze with his good hand, and picked up where she’d left off. {“The last All-Maudra stayed in Ha’rar until the very end. When the city finally fell, she died facing down the Garthim, alongside her people.”} There was clear, long-remembered admiration in his voice. {“But she had a child. A baby girl. While the All-Maudra and her warriors held off the Garthim, her youngest sister managed to escape, and she took the childling with her.”}

{“We heard about it when it happened,”} Ydra went on. {“Gelfling scouts told us she was heading for the Swamp of Sog. The All-Maudra’s mate had been one of the Drenchen, so she must’ve thought they’d find safety there. The scouts told us they’d likely pass near our village, and asked us to give them shelter and help them on their way.”}

Kira listened, wide-eyed. A storm of surprise, wonder, and anger churned uneasily inside her, hot and cold by turns. Old memories came to her once again: being carried through fire and forest, being hidden in a tree by a Gelfling woman she had believed was her mother (because who else could she be?), the dying scream of that woman mingling with the terrifying sounds of the Garthim…

{“But the All-Maudra’s sister never made it,”} Ydra said. {“All we found was you, out in the forest that day after the Garthim attacked. And there were plenty of Gelfling refugees passing through in those days. I can’t be _sure_ you’re the childling we were told about.”}

{“I can.”} Hup met Kira’s eyes warmly. {“I started to wonder about it the first time I saw you in sunlight. You look just like the last All-Maudra, down to the shape of your eyes. All that’s different is the green in your hair. That would’ve come from your Drenchen father.”}

{“I…”} Kira choked, clenching her hands under the table. 

It was so much to take in. If Hup was right, that meant she wasn’t just another war orphan. She was the daughter of the dead All-Maudra. The rightful heir to the rulership of all Gelfling. A queen, just as she’d felt on that day when she and Jen had entered the ruins of the Old Ones, when she’d taken the abandoned throne and felt as if it had been made for her. 

… But that would also mean the face she kept in her memories wasn’t her mother at all, but her aunt. She would truly have no memories of her mother. 

And what did a throne mean anyway, when she, Jen, and their unborn child were the only Gelfling left in the world?

The Podlings had their own chieftains. The Gruenaks recognized no leaders. The plants and creatures of Thra did not need a monarch to rule them - even Aughra did not claim to do that. 

If this was Kira’s family legacy, it felt like an empty one. 

She swallowed, a lump in her throat. {“I … I understand why you didn’t tell me.”} Seeking comfort as she tried to sort through these new, conflicting feelings, she huddled against Jen, who hugged her close. {“Is my name even Kira?”}

{“Of course it is!”} Ydra stroked her hair gently, the way she so often had when her daughter was small. {“It’s your name because you’ve _made_ it yours. Little bulb, none of this changes who _you_ are.”}

{“And that was what the All-Maudra named her daughter too,”} Hup added. He looked as if he’d like to join in the hug, but wasn’t sure if he’d be welcome. {“After the _Kira-Staba_ , the sacred Great Tree of Ha’rar.”}

{“Yes, I heard that,”} Ydra nodded. {“But I always liked the name. I would’ve called you that regardless.”}

Kira wasn’t sure if Ydra was telling the truth, or just trying to comfort her. Probably it made no difference, but it was still one more thing to take in, on top of a night full of them. So much she hadn’t known, so much to have learned only to realize it was already lost to her …

Tears came before she could stop them. It was embarrassing - she hadn’t cried in trine, and this was hardly a cause for it now - but there was no holding them back as they streamed hot down her cheeks. 

“Oh Kira, my love, please, it’s all right!” Jen sounded more distressed than she was. He hugged her tighter, nuzzling her hair in the way he’d learned she found comforting. 

Ever chivalrous, Hup fetched a dry cleaning cloth and offered it to the crying lady. {“Kira, I'm sorry. I never meant to upset you with this.”}

Kira took the cloth gratefully, and shook her head. {“You didn’t, really. I’m not sad to know where I came from. I don’t know why I’m acting like this.”}

Ydra shook her head gently. {“It’s normal to be moody while you’re with child. The littlest things can have you sobbing, and this isn’t a little thing.”}

She joined in the hug, and Kira let her. The three of them embraced for a long while, Jen and Ydra giving her comfort in a way no words ever could. Reminding her that she was loved just as she was, and always would be. 

At last, the tears stopped. Kira wiped her eyes and nose, and turned to Hup. Her face still felt hot, but she managed a smile. {“Would you tell me about them? The All-Maudra and her family? What were their names?”}

Hup smiled. {“I’d be glad to. The All-Maudra’s name was Seladon, daughter of Mayrin. Her mate’s name was Gurjin - I remember he was a bold warrior. And her sister, Brea, was one of the first leaders of the resistance…”}

* * *

By the time Jen and Kira finally made it to the Castle, the eastern edge of the sky was just beginning to lighten. 

As tired and full of good food as they’d been, Hup’s stories had been too much to resist. The Podling was a gifted tale-teller when his heart was in it, and they had both been hungry to learn more about the deeds of their people. And, though it might have been painful for him at first, they could tell it had brought Hup comfort too, to share the happy memories he had of his friends. 

Gentle Deet, clever Brea, brave Rian … so many heroic lives lost. But they had all died in the cause of saving Thra. By healing the Crystal, Jen and Kira now understood, they had seen to it that those sacrifices hadn’t been in vain. Some things might never be the same, but their world would still live on, even if it had to live on without the Gelfling someday. 

As they settled into their bedchamber, high up in one of the towers, Jen whispered, “I know it’s late to still be dwelling on this, but, are we doing the right thing? I do want to be a father, but … can we give this child a life worth living? Will they still be happy, knowing the history of Gelfling ends with them?”

“Yes they will.” Kira snuggled against him under the blankets. “ _We’ll_ make sure of that. Even if they never sire or bear children of their own, they’ll never be alone.” She kissed him softly. “This child already has more than either of us did. They’ll get to grow up in a world where they don’t have to be afraid. They’ll know where they came from, and they’ll always have friends and family around them. They’ll always be loved.”

“... You’re right.” He returned her kiss. “You’re always right.” 

They lay in each other’s embrace, enjoying the familiar warmth and scent, but sleep was still slow in coming. In the dark, Jen’s eyes opened as he felt Kira start to kiss him again, more insistently this time. 

“Kira, are you sure - oh!” He gave a small gasp as her hand moved somewhere interesting under the blanket. 

“I am. It’ll be safe for a few more unum, remember?”

“But aren’t you - _ah!_ …”

She giggled. “Do you want me to stop?”

“... Well, as long as it _is_ safe …”

* * *

Since Aughra hadn’t said exactly when she wanted to meet with them, the Gelfling allowed themselves to sleep in. If it truly was urgent, no doubt she’d come and roust them herself. It wouldn’t be the first time. 

The suns were climbing high when they finally rose, washed, and got themselves ready for the day. Being able to enjoy their own soft bed after unum out in the wilds was a joy, but not one they could enjoy endlessly. There was much to be done and learned, now that they were home again, starting with whatever new discovery Aughra had hinted at last night. 

They found her down in the Crystal Chamber, talking with Hup and Lenev. Now that she’d gotten her wish of seeing the Crystal, the Gruenak was apparently full of questions about it, and the Podling was watching with undisguised amusement as she peppered the ancient Keeper of Secrets with them. Fortunately for her, Aughra seemed glad to have someone she could talk to in detail about her beloved Crystal. 

“Yes, quartz is the closest mineral to it,” she said. “But the Crystal has its own unique structure. It’s _alive,_ you see. Has nerves and veins just like you. Everything Thra feels, it feels. What hurts one hurts the other. All things connected through it -”

She trailed off as she saw Jen and Kira arrive. “Ah, Gelfling, there you are! Certainly took your time.” Before they could apologize, she went on, “Well, no matter. Here, come look.” 

“What are we looking at?” Jen asked as she beckoned them in front of the glowing white stone. 

“Hmph! Was clear enough last night. Must’ve gotten tired from so much singing.” Aughra shook her head. “If he even _can_ get tired anymore.” 

“Who? Aughra, I don’t understand.”

“Don’t you remember, Jen? No, guess you don’t. Too much else on your mind. Before you both left, the Crystal kept sending out those strange notes of song?”

Jen and Kira exchanged a look. They did remember, but only barely. The song had been so faint back then, and the Crystal still so mysterious anyway - they had left it to Aughra’s wisdom to deal with. “Are you saying you found out what’s causing it?” Jen finally caught on.

“Yes! Exactly! Took some work, but Aughra managed to reach the place he was calling from.” To the Gelflings’ surprise, the wise and powerful Aughra, who they had never seen be afraid of anything, gave a shudder. “Never thought I’d have to go _there_ again.”

Above them, the three suns each climbed toward their zenith. 

“Aughra, you’re not making sense,” Jen insisted. “You’re saying someone’s talking through the Crystal?”

“Not just talking. Calling for help! Him and the others are trapped in there. And he knows something else. Something he wants to warn us about.” 

“But who is ‘he’?” Kira was losing her patience. “Aughra, please _explain._ ”

But before Aughra could, the beams of the suns struck the Crystal. 

On any other day, it would have been a moment for brief admiration, nothing more. The sunlight would have refracted through the pure Crystal, casting a wave of warm white light through the chamber. The vines and flowers would have taken nourishment from it (nourishment they would someday return to Thra), and then it would have moved on until the next day’s cycle. 

But not today. 

Today, something new happened. 

When the suns hit the Crystal, it glowed to a blinding intensity, strange golden light mixing with the white. Instead of a broad wave, the light was cast out into eight distinct beams. 

And, as Jen, Kira, and the others watched, each beam took shape, forming into a tall, luminous, and all too familiar figure. 

For a long moment, no one said anything - Gelfling, Podling, Gruenak, or urSkek. 

Then, Aughra spoke. 

“ _You._ You lot had better have a good reason for showing yourselves here again!”

* * *

**_To Be Continued..._ **


	6. Chapter 6

No lies this time. 

That was the agreement the eight had made when they first decided on their plan to return to Thra. The Thra-kind were not going to welcome them with starry-eyed awe this time, nor were they likely to believe any stories about the urSkeks bringing knowledge or enlightenment. The best they could hope for was that the people of Thra would give them a chance to speak at all. 

UngIm tried to keep his expression stoic as he heard Aughra’s words, but inside, he was relieved.  _ At least she’s not ordering us to leave.  _

He’d known there was probably no way to have their mission succeed without involving Aughra. For all he and his brethren had spent two thousand trine on this world, they would never understand it as well as she did - even if they hadn’t wasted so many of those trine wishing they were home again. If anyone would know the best way to locate the lost, divided soul of their dead leader, she would. 

Besides, even if they tried to keep their return a secret, she’d probably find out and shove her way into their mission anyway. That would be like her. 

Yes, he’d been prepared to face Aughra again. And he wasn’t too surprised to see a scarred old Podling pointing a spoon at him and looking like he was ready to do battle if the urSkeks gave him an excuse. UngIm and his fellows had certainly done plenty of harm to the Podlings. The Gruenak standing by the Podling's side, either protecting him or seeking protection herself, was also not so strange, though UngIm would’ve sworn that race was long gone. Even the growling, bristling ball of graying fur (UngIm’s left wrist felt a memory of pain at the sight of those teeth) was something he’d been ready for. 

It was the Gelfling he hadn’t prepared himself to see again. 

Jen. The boy who lived in two sets of the eight’s memories. One, short but violent, where they had feared him and hungered for his death, but another, longer and sweeter, where they had cared for him as their own child. 

He was a little older now, a youth grown to adulthood, but looking at him, UngIm still remembered the boy urIm had nursed through the bumps and bruises of childhood. Cleaning and dressing his knee when he cut it falling on the rocks, or preparing a soothing bath the time he caught a rash from a patch of biting tockweeds - how happy the Healer had been when the crying, itching Gelfling child finally found relief. He might not have been as close to Jen as urSu or urSol, but he had loved him too, all the same. 

And it made those  _ other  _ memories all the more horrific now. 

But it also made their mission all the more urgent. 

As UngIm watched, Jen drew closer to the female Gelfling beside him. Yes - she was the same one from the day of the Great Conjunction. The one ZokZah’s dark half had killed, the one UngIm himself had restored to life. Even then, he’d sensed the bond between her and Jen, and if the new life the Physician could feel growing inside her now was any sign, that bond had grown even stronger in the last seven trine. 

Which made it a bit embarrassing now to realize they didn’t know her name. Jen had called her something, he recalled, but in the chaos of the moments that followed, none of them had remembered it. 

Facing them all now, and feeling their distrust and fear, UngIm did the only thing he could think of. He dimmed his corona in submission - a thing normally only done before fellow urSkeks - and lowered his corporeal body in the closest he could come to a respectful bow. A moment later, the other seven followed his example. 

To UngIm’s relief, SilSol spoke first. Words always came easier to him. 

“Mother Aughra. Jen. Peoples of Thra. I know my brothers and I have no right to a welcome here. Please believe, we would not have come without dire reason. We wish no harm to anyone, and we will stay no longer than absolutely necessary.”

“Hmph! Seem to recall you said something like that last time.” Aughra shook her head. “Still, suppose it  _ must  _ be urgent, if you couldn’t wait for the next Conjunction to come all this way. All right, explain yourselves.”

* * *

So they did. 

Each in their turn, the eight told what had happened since their departure seven trine ago. From ShodYod’s discovery of the vanished star system, to his finding that it was part of a larger, apocalyptic pattern, to UngIm’s realization that SoSu had also likely known about it - and, more importantly, might have known a way to stop it. 

As the urSkeks spoke, Jen listened with wide-eyed fascination; not only taking in their tale, but observing the urSkeks themselves. It was still hard to wrap his mind around the idea that these strange beings were the same Mystics he had grown up with. Their forms and faces were so different, more like otherworldly Gelfling than like the ponderous, long-necked creatures he remembered.

But their voices were still close. Even if they now spoke from their minds rather than their throats, Jen recognized urIm, urSol, urZah, and the others he had known so well. It brought a wave of bittersweet joy and longing he hadn’t been ready for, and he couldn’t keep a wistful smile off his face as he listened. 

Finally, UngIm came to tell of how the eight had made their journey back to Thra in defiance of their peoples’ leaders. That, Jen could tell from her expression, made more of an impression on Aughra than any part of their story so far. In the days after the last Conjunction, when he and Kira had turned to her with questions about the urSkeks, their history, and the now-fulfilled prophecy, he remembered her saying that they had first come to Thra after being banished from their own world, but had tried to keep that fact a secret from Thra’s people. If they were openly admitting to being fugitives now, they must be desperate. 

“So we ask for your help now,” SilSol said at last. “Please, before any more worlds are lost. This is where SoSu died. If any part of his soul still exists, we need to find it.”

Aughra gave a rough chuckle. “Well, your timing couldn’t be better. Just so happens, I know exactly where he is.”

Jen and the other mortals gaped, and a flash of surprise rippled through the coronas of the urSkeks. 

Without waiting for questions (or giving the chance for any more interruptions), Aughra started to explain. “It must have started the day of the division. Your kind aren’t from Thra, so you can’t return to it when you die. I used to wonder if that meant you’d vanish into nothing after death.” She shook her head. “Should’ve known better. Souls are made of tougher stuff than that, even when they’re sundered and weakened. When YiYa and HakHom’s halves died that day, they had to go  _ somewhere. _ ”

Words came back to Jen from seven trine ago:  _ could be anywhere, then.  _

Aughra approached the shining stone as she went on, “So the Crystal made a place for them. Part of Thra, but also outside of it. Like a pocket turned inside out.” She lifted part of her skirt and made a fist inside the fabric, illustrating. “Every time a Skeksis and Mystic died, that’s where they’ve ended up. And not just them!”

Her good eye narrowed as she glared at OkAc. “ _ You  _ remember, Chronicler. When the Hunter lay dying, what did Aughra do?”

OkAc hesitated. He did indeed remember - all the urSkeks did - but the memory was a dark one. “... You sacrificed yourself. In exchange for freeing the Gelfling prisoners, you let us drain your essence.”

Kira gave a small gasp. And, she noticed, Hup was also looking at Aughra with wonder, as if some old piece of knowledge had finally fallen into place. 

“Yes. And when that happened, I  _ went  _ to that place. Didn’t stay long, but I remember it was cold and full of shadows. Cut off from the suns and the life of Thra.”

She shuddered. 

“And the poor Gelfling are still there. All the ones who died so  _ you  _ lot could prolong your rotting lives. Even while you abused and corrupted it, the Crystal tried to do what it could to save them. Now it’s healed, but they’re still trapped in that place!”

The urSkeks’ coronas dimmed further. They said nothing, for what  _ could  _ they say? No words of apology would undo the evil they had done. They could not even claim to have not been themselves at the time. The Skeksis had been their dark selves, but they were still part of them; if they had not been, the eight would not still remember the heady taste and life-giving rush of Gelfling essence now. 

Aughra’s words had chilled him, but Jen’s thoughts turned back to what she had said earlier, just before the urSkeks’ arrival. “Aughra, you were telling us you’d talked to someone through the Crystal. Was it …?” He trailed off, hopeful but afraid to speak the name. 

“Hmph. That  _ would  _ solve all our problems, wouldn’t it? But no, fate never makes things that easy.” She turned her eye on the Crystal. “SoSu  _ is  _ still in there, though. Divided, but there. Just have to find a way to get in and reach him.” 

The urSkeks exchanged looks among themselves, thoughts passing silently between them. As their leader, UngIm finally asked, “Is there a way one of us -”

“No.” Aughra’s answer was blunt and final. “Even if I  _ did  _ trust you with my Crystal again, you couldn’t do it. It takes a state of mind your kind don’t understand.”

UngIm’s temper rose a little. “Why not? Because we’re not of Thra? You said yourself our dead brethren reached this realm. Why shouldn’t we be able to do the same?”

Aughra sniffed. “Are you volunteering to die, then? Because that’s the only way to get there. You have to place yourself between life and death,  _ and  _ you have to know how to bring yourself back again, if you don’t want to end up lost forever.” She looked up at the Physician. “I know how much you studied the death trance. Many times, your voice brought peace to the sick and dying. But do you know how to turn that song on yourself? Especially now, when you no longer have a body of flesh and breath to anchor you?”

“I’m sure I could learn.”

“Perhaps. But lessons take time, and if your story is true, that’s something we don’t have. Me, I’ve had practice. Used to spend centuries searching the heavens in spirit, and come back none the worse for wear. This shan’t be so different.”

But, the others saw, she was not as confident as she appeared. “Just wish I could be sure they’d listen. Can’t imagine the Emperor will be glad to see me, and the Master never did like it when Aughra told him to take some action. The last time I saw him alive, we didn’t part on good terms.” 

“... Then let  _ me  _ do it.”

It was Jen who had spoken. 

As the others stared at him in surprise, he hastened to explain himself. “I never met skekSo. I’ve heard the stories about him, and I know he wouldn’t likely listen to a Gelfling.” He took a deep breath. “But I  _ did  _ know urSu. I know that he loved me. He was my family, teacher, and friend. I was by his side when he died. If he would listen to anyone, maybe he’d listen to me. And if I can get one half to listen … well, that’s a start, isn’t it?”

“Jen, no!” Kira took his hand, making him face her. “Didn’t you hear her? You’re talking about  _ dying. _ ”

He bit his lip. “Not permanently. If a flesh and breath body can keep you anchored, I have one of those, don’t I? I know it’ll be dangerous, but … Kira, the  _ world  _ is in danger. You, our child, our friends, everything.” He drew her close, dark blue eyes meeting light hazel. “I already lost you once. And the other Gelfling, the resistance … they sacrificed so much to make our world whole again. I can’t let all of that have been for nothing.”

Kira swallowed, but could find no more words to object. She held him closer, fighting down more embarrassing tears. 

The urSkeks watched them, coronas flickering gray. Jen’s words made sense, but they had already asked so much of him. Was it fair to lay this burden on him now?

No. But the universe was seldom fair - everyone present in the Crystal Chamber knew that all too well. 

UngIm turned to Aughra. “ _ Could  _ he do it?”

“... I think so. But we’ll have to do some work first.” She pointed at ZokZah, NaNol, and AyukAmaj. “You, you, and you, come with me. And you too, Physician. Going to need your help.”

* * *

It should have been a joy for the Botanist to have a chance to collect samples of Thra’s plant life again. He’d spent so much time missing the familiar growing things, and when he’d seen the cool white Crystal Chamber filled with life and color, he’d been delighted. Not only by its beauty, but at the genius and labor of the Podlings he immediately knew had been responsible for the Chamber’s transformation. 

When he found himself working side by side with those same Podlings, however, that delight was snuffed out like a dying candle. 

Teba, Dermag, and the other former slaves weren’t unwilling to help him gather the ingredients Aughra had named. They understood the urgency of the task, and they all cared for Jen and wanted the best for him. But none of them made any attempt to hide how frightened they were of NaNol. What few memories they had of their time in slavery were little more than dark and distant dreams, but they had  _ not  _ forgotten which of the surviving Skeksis had been lacking an eye and most of a hand. 

And NaNol couldn’t blame them. Long before any of these Podlings had been born, he’d feared that darkness in himself. His love for studying, tending, and making use of plants, so useful in his time as the Herbalist, had sprouted from urges to control the world around him - to shape smaller lives in ways he deemed best. When his dark half had been unleashed, it had been easy for those urges to warp into a desire for control over  _ people _ , and he, his lighter half, and so many others had suffered for it. 

But in one way, that desire for control was still useful. The Botanist still remembered every detail of the Thra flora he’d studied, from their ideal growing sites to their seeding and fruiting seasons to what parts of a given plant would produce the effects Aughra wanted. 

Most of them, luckily, were easy to find in the meadows and groves around the Castle. But the final ingredient, ripe urdrupe berries, would be a problem. It would take days to reach the Crystal Desert, and even then, NaNol knew the urdrupes would have only just started flowering. 

The Botanist started to levitate higher on the open grass outside the Castle, trying to judge if he could make the journey faster by drawing on light energy from the suns, when he noticed Dermag approaching, carrying something. 

The Podling man gulped nervously, working up the courage to talk to the former Slave Master. {“Will this be enough?”} He held up a small, thin twig with three dry leaves. 

NaNol’s good eye glowed brighter. It was old and brittle and as good as dead, but he knew urdrupe when he saw it. “Where did you find this?”

Dermag gestured toward the Castle. {“The Scientist’s chambers. I … used to work in there. I remembered there were plants as well as animals. After the Crystal was healed, we … destroyed most of it,”} he flinched, as if still fearing punishment, {“but we kept these.”}

NaNol took the preserved urdrupe sample gently, levitating it in his good hand. “Thank you. Please, show me the nearest free garden.”

He let Dermag escort him to a patch of rich, sun-warmed earth in the nearby village. The dry twig stayed upright when he planted it, and remained so as the urSkek drew water out of the humid air around them. 

With his corporeal body brought so low that his shining robes brushed the ground, NaNol channeled the power that was his. He touched the dead little twig with his remaining left finger…

And Dermag and the villagers watched in wonder as life returned to the plant. Dry leaves swelled and grew green as they filled with water. The stem trembled faintly, sprouting roots and tiny new shoots. Trines’ worth of growth happened in a span of moments, until at last a small but healthy urdrupe bush sat under the suns, its branches bearing several glossy red berries. 

NaNol plucked them with the faintest touch of telekinesis. They orbited in his hand as he addressed plant and Podlings both. “Thank you. By this, you may have saved both our worlds.” 

* * *

By the time preparations were complete, night was falling. 

Aughra, the two Gelfling, and the urSkeks gathered in the Crystal Chamber once more, to find EktUtt putting the finishing touches on a low, smooth bridge of crystal. It stretched across the root-covered mouth of the shaft, directly under the Crystal itself, shaped out of sections of the floor on either side, and was just wide enough to hold a Gelfling body. 

“I do hope we’ll be able to leave this up afterwards,” he said. “I’m no HakHom, but I’d still call this some of my finest work, especially in such a short time.”

Aughra gave a brief but approving nod. “It’ll do.”

In her hands, the ancient sage carried a small drinking bowl, the silver battered and tarnished with age. The thick liquid it held was so dark it was nearly black, but cast a faint, ghostly blue glow - a lingering effect of the glow-moss that had been an ingredient. 

_ Guess it’s a lucky thing we brought so much glow-moss back with us,  _ Jen thought, looking at the brew. He remembered that the moss itself had been surprisingly tasty (once Hup had assured him it was safe to eat), but he had his doubts whether this concoction would taste as good. “Aughra, you are  _ sure  _ this stuff will get me in the right state of mind?”

“Yes. Tried it myself, more than once.” Her voice grew soft. “After my son Raunip died, I tried all sorts of things to try and reach him. The Dousan gave me this idea, and I added my own touches to it over the trine.”

“And did it work? Did you ever reach your son?”

Aughra gave a faint, sad smile. “That’s a story for another time.”

Kira stayed by Jen’s side as he approached the Crystal. When they finally reached one end of the bridge EktUtt had crafted, she gave him one last loving, desperate embrace. “I’ll be here waiting for you the whole time. So you have to promise me you’ll come back.”

“I will, Kira -”

“ _ Promise  _ me!”

He sighed, and hugged her as tightly as he dared without harming her or the baby. “I promise.”

They shared one last kiss, gentle and hungry all at once, etching each other into their memories. Then, at last, Jen turned to Aughra again. “I’m ready.”  _ As ready as I ever can be for something like this.  _

Nodding, she handed him the bowl. “Don’t worry. Tastes a lot better than it smells.” 

It almost  _ had  _ to, because the smell was like death: sour and cold and rancid, and full of dark and hidden mysteries. Jen fought the urge to gag, and drank the liquid down as fast as he could without choking, the way he might swallow one of urAmaj’s herbal soups he hadn’t liked. 

Aughra had told the truth, though, because the taste was sour-sweet, like overripe fruit. It was strong on his tongue, but not unpleasant going down. Even before all of it was in his belly, Jen began to feel the effects. 

The bowl dropped from his hands as a wave of dizziness swept over him. When he looked down, he could see his hands ( _ were  _ they his hands?) starting to glow blue. 

“Quickly! Have to get you into place while you can still move!”

With Aughra and Kira guiding him, Jen inched his way out onto the narrow crystal bridge feet-first. When he was in the position Aughra had told him - with the lowest point of the great Crystal directly over his heart - he lay still, and folded his hands over his chest in a pose of rest. Already he was finding it harder to move, a state deeper than sleep creeping over his mind and body…

Kneeling by his head, Aughra whispered, “Remember, Jen. Whoever you might see on the other side,  _ you _ are alive and they are not. The dead cannot harm the living.”

Jen managed to breathe out, “Where will I find him?”

“Don’t know. But the one who sang out to me is still in there. Find him first. He’ll help guide you.” 

She laid her hands on him. The eye in her forehead began to glow yellow, and she started to chant. 

_ “Arugaru, omamora. Deratea, kemamora. Kidakida, ranumora. Deatea, davamora…” _

The Urskeks gathered in a circle around them. As Aughra continued to chant, ZokZah began to sing a single note. It started soft, like the first breath of life, and slowly grew deeper, until Jen could feel it humming in the stone beneath him. One by one, the other urSkeks went around the circle, joining their voices with the Ritualist’s.

Last of all, UngIm added his voice, in the bone-deep vibration of the death trance. 

_ Whatever happens now,  _ came Jen’s last thought,  _ it’s up to me.  _

He closed his eyes. 

* * *

**_To Be Continued..._ **


	7. Chapter 7

In a realm both of and yet outside Thra, Jen opened his eyes. 

He was standing on a barren, rocky patch of land. The light around him was the cool dimness of twilight, but there was a faint violet tint to that murky light. He recognized it at once, faint though it was: the same hue as the darkened Crystal. 

The air was dry and cold, and so still that it felt almost like blasphemy to disturb it. A heavy curtain of gray-violet fog hung all around him, so thick that Jen could barely see more than an arm’s length in front of him. When he reached out and waved his hand through it, it swirled briefly around him, but he felt no dampness or sense of temperature. It was like trying to touch a mirage. 

_And that’s what this place is,_ he thought to himself. _It’s like a dream. My spirit may be here, but my body is still back in the living world. As long as Kira and the others watch over me there, I’ll be safe._

He hoped he could keep believing that. 

When Jen looked up at the sky, he could only see more of that murky gray-violet twilight. There was no hint of the suns or moons, only endless fog. Nothing by which he might get a sense of his bearings. 

_Aughra said to find the one who sang out to her. But how am I supposed to find him? She didn’t even give me his name._

Well, he’d never find anyone if he didn’t start somewhere. Looking ahead into the curtain of fog before him, Jen started to walk. The craggy stones and pebbles that littered the ground should have slid under his feet, but they stayed as unnaturally still as the air itself. 

Nonetheless, someone heard him. 

Jen had barely gone more than a few paces when he heard whispering, hissing voices in the fog. He froze, trying to make out the words. 

“Kelffink?”

“Kelffink _ekem?_ ”

“ _Zai_ Kelffink ekem?”

“Deestitoc?”

“Makhun kim!”

Even separated from his body, Jen felt a cold shiver down his spine - the fear of a prey creature who now _knows_ he has become prey. Out of the fog, he could see two figures approaching. 

They were Skeksis, he knew that immediately. But just as immediately, he knew they were different from the living Skeksis he’d seen. All the ones he’d encountered had buried themselves in layered robes (even the ragged Chamberlain had made an effort to cover himself), while these two were naked. They moved almost on all fours, stalking like animals, and their bodies were lithe and strong and covered in dazzling coats of fur-like plumage. The brawnier one was a rich auburn shot with streaks of black and gold, while the slimmer one was an iridescent white like the Pearl Moon. 

If they hadn’t been hunting him, Jen would have been impressed at their beauty.

Trying to keep up his courage, he raised a hand in greeting. “Um, hello. I don’t suppose either of you sang out to Aughra recently?”

He knew it was a mistake even before he’d finished the words. These wild creatures had not been the ones Aughra spoke to. They could barely talk at all, let alone sing. 

Worse, they clearly recognized Aughra’s name. And they did not like it. 

“Rakhash!”

“Krakweekah!”

Forgetting Aughra’s words for now, Jen turned and ran. It was easy for _her_ to say the dead could not harm the living; she was the spirit of Thra itself, while he was just another Gelfling. A very frightened one, with two savage predators after him. 

He scrambled up the largest boulder he could find, fingernails scratching at the stone. Behind him, he could hear the two Skeksis chattering to each other as they drew closer. He still couldn’t understand them, but it was easy enough to guess: they were deciding what to do once they caught him, and it would not be pleasant. 

Too late, Jen realized he was trapped atop the boulder. Behind him, he could just make out a dark cliff wall, too far away for him to reach or climb. Below him, the two Skeksis circled, savoring the moment before the attack…

All three paused. 

A light was approaching through the fog. It was faint and ghostly, reminding Jen of the swamp-wisps he and Kira had seen on their journey to the Sog a few trine ago. As it drew closer, though, he began to see that it was a familiar shade of gold. 

_An urSkek, here in this place?_

At first, he thought one of the eight must have followed him somehow. But as the alien figure drifted closer, he realized he was wrong. The urSkek’s corona, while still visible, was weak and scattered, like light filtered through clouded glass. Whoever this urSkek was, Jen understood, he was dead too. 

The ghostly urSkek headed straight for the three of them. When he spoke, it was in the same tone Jen had often heard Kira use when she scolded Fizzgig: annoyed, but fond all the same. 

“SkekYi! SkekHak! What kind of way is that to treat a visitor?”

The white Skeksis snarled at him, and the auburn one gave a swipe of his talons. They passed through the urSkek’s robes like smoke. 

The urSkek shook his head. “More than a thousand trine, and you still haven’t learned. Well, if you’re not going to help, both of you get out of here. The Gelfling and I have much to discuss.” When they made no move, he waved a long arm impatiently. “Go on! Go back to your aimless wandering.”

Grumbling, and with one last glare at the tall, glowing figure, the two Skeksis paced off into the fog. 

“Thank you!” Jen exclaimed. He slid down off the boulder, landing lightly on the smaller stones below. “You saved me.”

“Nonsense. They couldn’t have laid a hand on you, even if I hadn’t shown up. They’ve been dead for an Age and more, and you’re still very much alive.” A small smile touched the urSkek’s mouth. “But you’re welcome, all the same.”

In spite of his recent fright, Jen returned the smile. “It was you, wasnt it? You’re the one Aughra’s been speaking to.”

“That I am. It took some practice to send my voice to the other side, but then, there’s no shortage of time here. When you don’t have to eat or sleep, why _not_ spend your time singing?”

It wasn’t something Jen had ever formed an opinion about, so he just shrugged. “I suppose. My name is Jen, by the way. What do I call you?”

The urSkek’s corona glowed with joy. “After far too long, you can call me GraGoh.” 

Jen had to think for a moment to place the name. In the Castle’s library, he recalled, there had been a few mentions of a skekGra. Very few, though. As best Jen could tell, that Skeksis had committed some unspeakable crime, so terrible that the others had tried to erase his name from their history, if not their own memories. 

Part of him wondered if he should still be afraid. But GraGoh _had_ come to his rescue, and had made the effort to reach out to Aughra for help. And it wasn’t as if the other Skeksis had been known for their healthy sense of morality. 

“Then I’m glad to meet you.” He approached the urSkek, looking up at him. “Please, tell me, are there others here like you? Have any of the other dead ones become one again?” _Aughra said SoSu was still divided, but did she know for certain?_

GraGoh’s smile faded. “I wish I could tell you yes.”

“... Oh.” Jen’s ears flattened, and he felt suddenly ashamed for having asked. There was still much he did not understand about what had happened to the Twice-Nine, and he hoped he hadn’t offended GraGoh somehow. 

But he still had to find answers, if he hoped to save his world. “If I may ask, why did it happen for you and not the others?” _What made you different?_

“Oh, that part is simple,” the urSkek declared. “I _wanted_ it. When my shards found themselves here, with no crude flesh to keep their souls divided anymore, all it took was a willing embrace, and two became one again.” His corona grew warm, then flickered as he added, “Of course, I was still dead afterwards. It would’ve been nice to find a way to unity without that part.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

Sorry for what, he didn’t know. Jen saw no way he personally could have changed GraGoh’s fate. But it was all he could think of to say. He remembered the moment of the Great Conjunction: how the Skeksis, full of silent screams and existential terror, had needed to be dragged (literally) into becoming one with their counterparts. For a Skeksis (and a Mystic too?) to have truly _wanted_ that moment, and to have been denied it, seemed deeply unfair.

GraGoh shook his head, his ghostly _thalli_ making swirls in the fog. “Not your fault. You weren’t even born then, and the Gelfling already did far more than their share to save Thra.” His corona brightened once more. “And that’s why you’re here, isn’t it? You’re trying to save Thra again.”

“Yes! The other urSkeks, they said there’s some dark force circling through the heavens, destroying worlds with Crystals. They called it the Devouring.”

“SoSu called it the Star-Shadow when I told him about it. I have to admit, I like ‘the Devouring’ better.” 

“When _you_ told him about it?” Jen perked up in intense interest. “Then you were the one who discovered it?”

“The first hint of it, yes. This was thousands of trine ago.” As he spoke, the urSkek began to move his long, spindly hands through the fog. When he had gathered a small cloud of it (apparently, a trace of the urSkeks’ otherworldly powers still remained in death), he concentrated, and moving images began to form inside the cloud. 

They were GraGoh’s own memories, Jen quickly realized, shaped into a story. Watching it wasn’t like the times when he dreamfasted with Kira; the images were abstract, like beautiful drawings given life, rather than what he would have seen through GraGoh’s own eyes. If anything, it reminded Jen of the scrying-bowl urSu had used sometimes. 

He saw the urSkeks on their own world, a place of shining, pristine towers very like the restored Crystal Castle. He saw one urSkek - GraGoh in his prime - gather with a handful of others in front of a Crystal much larger than Thra’s, their coronas all bright with excitement. 

“In those days, I was GraGoh the Surveyor, tasked with scouting and charting new planets for possible colony sites.” 

The dead urSkek moved his fingers into a new pattern, and the scene in the cloud changed. As Jen watched, the long-ago urSkeks entered the Crystal willingly. Light danced as if refracted through countless prisms, white to rainbow to white in an unending pattern. This, Jen realized, was the closest his Gelfling mind could come to comprehending what it was like to travel between Crystals the way urSkeks did. 

But instead of emerging on another living world, the paths of light cast them out into the void of space. They drifted, confused, shining specks in a sea of infinite darkness. 

“When my team and I came to an empty place in space where we’d calculated there should be a Crystal-bearing system, I hoped we’d simply made an error. When it happened twice, then thrice, I knew something was deeply wrong.” 

GraGoh’s light dimmed. In the cloud-image, Jen saw the Surveyor standing before a massive pyramid-shaped platform of glittering stone. Nine other urSkeks floated above it: one at the summit, and the other eight at lower points along the sides. As the past-GraGoh spoke to them (Jen could not hear words, but from the colors and ripples of his corona, he seemed quite passionate), the highest eight turned away, but the urSkek at the lowest point glowed brighter, clearly taking an interest in the Surveyor’s tale. 

“I went to our Council of leaders, but only SoSu listened.”

Last of all, GraGoh showed the image of his past self following that Councillor, SoSu, among the spires of the urSkek world. Jen watched as the two of them entered a shadowed chamber where other urSkeks had gathered. Before he could learn any more, however, GraGoh spread his hands, and the cloud evaporated back into the fog. 

“That was how I came to join him. He believed my story, and he decided we should take action.” 

“It’s SoSu I’ve come to see now,” Jen said. “If he’s still divided, I can at least talk to urSu the Master.” Curious, he asked, “Has he ever spoken of me?”

GraGoh did not answer that. He looked over his shoulder into the fog, his corona gray. “It’ll be easier to understand if you see for yourself, Jen. Come, I’ll show you the way.” 

* * *

Jen followed the ghostly urSkek deeper into the fog. They crossed over more of the barren, rocky ground, until the rocks began to grow larger, gathering into an upward-sloping mound. To Jen’s eye, the stones looked wet, but he felt no moisture when he touched them. 

“Up this way.” GraGoh beckoned, drifting higher. 

As he climbed (and wished the urSkek might’ve lent him a hand), Jen tried to figure out why this spot seemed familiar. A memory nudged at him, but surely he couldn’t have been here before…?

The fog thinned ahead of them, and he gave a small gasp. 

He had only seen them once, but he remembered them well: the Teeth of Skreesh. The monstrous fanged face that had once decorated the sewer outlet where he and Kira first entered the Castle seven trine ago. 

“It’s the Castle,” he started to say. “But how…”

Jen trailed off as he saw they were no longer alone. 

Under one of the massive stone claws that framed the gargoyle face, a Skeksis sat crouched on the mounded rocks. She was visibly older than the two he’d seen earlier, her thin, ragged plumage gone the blue-gray of the sea under a winter sky. From what Jen could tell, she had once been large and strong, but her frame had withered under the torn brocade coat she wore. Her rose-red eyes were fixed low, on the trickle of water that flowed from the Teeth of Skreesh. 

And across from her, in mirrored position to the Skeksis, crouched an urRu. Equally old and ragged, her indigo hair gone equally thin and gray, and her eyes fixed just as desperately on the same trickle of water. 

“Ah, skekSa, urSan,” GraGoh addressed them. “Look! After so many trine, we have a visitor. Care to let us past?”

The Skeksis waved one hand dismissively, not bothering to look up. “I can’t stop you.”

“UrSan…” Jen brightened as he recalled the name. “The other Mystics spoke of you! They called you the Swimmer. They said you knew the waters of Thra better than anyone. And you,” he turned to the Skeksis, “you’re skekSa the Mariner! I read about you. The first to ever tame a sea-tortle -”

“For all it mattered in the end,” skekSa growled. Her voice sounded low and hoarse, too tired to even be angry anymore. “I’m no Mariner here. _This,_ ” she gestured with a talon, “is the only water that’s left. Vassa turned on me, the Gelfling turned on me, the others turned on me, and now I’m _nothing._ ”

“And I’m no Swimmer.” UrSan’s voice was barely more than a whisper. She reached out and tried to dip a fingertip in, but the unnaturally still water did not so much as ripple at her touch. It was an eerie thing to watch. “One cannot swim in an echo of memory.”

GraGoh looked as if he wanted to say something to both of them, but he glanced at Jen, and simply dimmed his corona sadly. “We should keep going.”

As he stepped past the mouth of Skreesh, Jen looked back at the two ghosts. The Skeksis were monsters, he knew that well. They had ravaged Thra for an Age, killing and draining without remorse. They had destroyed his people, and countless others. Surely if anyone deserved to be trapped in this empty place, they did. 

But the sight of skekSa, so old and broken, dooming herself to gaze helplessly at that rill of foul, ghostly water forever … and the innocent urSan trapped with her …

A wave of pity filled Jen’s heart, and he swallowed a lump in his throat. 

* * *

They hadn’t gone far into the catacombs when Jen saw the first Gelfling. 

There were three of them, two men and a woman, all dressed in dark capes and the same style of gray-brown armor. One of the men bore a few age lines and strands of gray in his hair, but he still looked fit and hale; the other two were about the same age as Jen himself. 

For a moment, he simply stared at them. Until he had met Kira and shared her memories, he could not remember ever seeing another Gelfling. Even in the memories of his parents (and he still did not know if those were real, or only dreams), they were barely more than shadows hovering over his smaller self. To see these ones so clearly now was like having his old daydreams in the valley come to life. 

Except they hadn’t come to life. They were dead, and trapped here just as Aughra had said.

The three Gelfling were just as amazed to see him. “It can’t be,” the older male gasped. “How did _you_ come to be here?”

“How are you _here_ and still alive?” The younger male reached out a hand, trying to touch Jen’s tunic, but his fingers only passed through the living Gelfling. Jen could see now that in this realm, even traveling in spirit, he himself was still brighter and more solid than the shades around him. More _real._

“It’s a long story,” Jen answered. “Please, I need to get into the Castle.” 

_“Rian!”_

They all looked up at the cry. 

A fourth Gelfling shade came running down the tunnel: a young female, with braided snow-white hair and freckled golden skin. She wore the same uniform armor as the others, but her cloak was gone, leaving her glittering wings free. 

“Rian, how did you get here?!” she gasped, surprised and hopeful. “I always believed in you, but I never imagined you’d come this far to…”

She finally got a close look at the living Gelfling in front of her, and her face and wings fell. 

“Oh. You’re not Rian.”

“I’m sorry, Mira,” GraGoh spoke, his voice gentle. “I know the resemblance is strong, but Rian returned to Thra a long time ago.”

Jen wished he could comfort the disappointed Gelfling girl. “I might not be Rian, but maybe I can still help. My name is Jen. I’m here to speak to urSu, wisest of the Mystics.” 

“Have you come to free us?”

More Gelfling were appearing from the darkness, drawn by his light and the sound of his voice. A few wore more of those dark cloaks and uniforms, but many others were clad in their clan colors and styles of armor. Even more were peasants in simple but lovingly made homespun - they had not been warriors in life, but farmers, crafters, and other peaceful folk. 

“Did Mother Aughra send you?”

“Is there a way out of here?”

“Can you save us?”

Jen looked from face to face. All the Gelflings’ eyes were on him, full of desperate hope. 

Oh Thra, he hadn’t come here for this. His task was to find his old Master, ask him for answers about the Devouring, then return to the world of the living. Aughra had said there were Gelfling souls here, but she hadn’t prepared him for what to say to them. 

_Maybe she thought I’d know what to say on my own._

“...Yes.” Jen stood straighter, forcing confidence into his voice. “I don’t know how yet, and there’s something else I have to do first. But I promise, once that’s done, I’ll find a way to get all of you out of here.” He breathed deep. “I’ll find a way to return you to Thra.”

Whispers of joy spread through the crowd. But from the edge, a voice called out, “Don’t listen to him!”

The speaker was a young Gelfling man with nut-brown skin and black hair. He wore the same armor as Mira and the others, but unlike them, he still wore the crested helmet that went with it, and his pale green eyes were narrowed under it. “Don’t you understand? There _is_ no way out of this place. Thra sent us all here for a reason! We failed it in life when we listened to the Skeksis, and now this is our punishment. We _deserve_ to be stuck here forever.” 

“Maybe _you_ do, Tolyn,” one of the other uniformed Gelfling spat. “But _I_ fought the Skeksis to the end. If this fellow can lead us out, I’ll be the first to follow him.” 

“He bears the name of Jarra-Jen,” said the first uniformed female. “It’s a sign, it has to be!”

GraGoh watched the gathered Gelfling as they talked, his face impassive and his corona still. Finally, however, he addressed them, “Whatever his name is, he still has far to go. Be assured, I’ll guide him.”

“So will I,” Mira declared. She took up position on Jen’s other side, like the guard she had been in life. “I’d be honored to escort you.” 

GraGoh’s corona flickered with uncertainty, but he did not object. 

The crowd of Gelfling ghosts parted before them, leaving a clear path further into the Castle. Jen smiled at his two companions as they continued on, but inside, he felt cold and uneasy. 

_I hope I can prove worthy of their honor._

* * *

They passed more and more Gelfling as they made their way through the Castle’s depths. The Skeksis had not taken essence from every Gelfling they murdered, or even most of them, especially after the prophecy came to light and they had ruled it was too dangerous to spare any even for a brief time. But they had still drained enough lives to fill these spectral halls with hundreds of lost souls. 

Faces gazed at Jen and his two companions from all seven of the lost clans. Some were no more than children, while others were aged but still hearty, but most looked to be in their prime; the Skeksis had not wasted time draining those with most of their life already spent. 

Hundreds of lives, all cut short. And now, as a final cruelty, denied their chance to return to Thra. 

“I wish you hadn’t said that back there,” GraGoh whispered as they moved upward through a dark, narrow tunnel. “You have a kind heart, Jen, but promises that can’t be kept are no better than lies.”

“But I _will_ keep it,” he insisted. “There has to be a way to free the Gelfling. You were able to reach the other side with your voice, so there must be _some_ way through.” A little desperate, he added, “Surely Thra doesn’t want them to be here forever?”

“What Thra wants can be difficult to understand. Hundreds of trine ago, it gave my shards a vision to embrace unity, and a warning of the consequences if they did not. They thought the answer was in bringing our divided kin together.” The urSkek’s voice grew distant and regretful. “They were wrong. The answer was in the Gelfling, and bringing _them_ unity. And even when that came true, most of them still died.”

Jen thought of Hup’s stories of the resistance; all the names and deeds the Podling had told. “But they didn’t die for nothing. They found the lost shard. Because of them, Kira and I were able to heal the Crystal. If part of Thra is still out of balance, it’s my responsibility to make it right.” He turned to Mira. “Back there, you called me Rian. Did … did you mean the same Rian who helped lead the resistance?”

Mira gave a bittersweet smile. “I never got to witness the time of resistance. I found myself here before it began. When the others started arriving, they told me it was my death that sparked the flame. They said Rian told all the clans what the Skeksis did to me, and that they had listened, and followed him to war.”

Jen nodded. “I met an old Podling recently, named Hup. He told me the same story.” Curious (and a little awkward), he asked, “Then, Rian was your lover?”

“Yes.” Mira’s smile grew. “When we were both guards in the Castle. I was a Vapran and he was a Stonewood, so I doubt our families or maudras would’ve approved if we’d thought about marriage, but I like to think that wouldn’t have stopped us.” She watched Jen closely, looking him over in the darkness. “It’s not just the looks, you know. You _feel_ like him. I can’t explain it any better than that -”

The three travelers stopped. From the tunnel up ahead of them, a deep, rough chuckle rumbled down. It sounded more like an animal’s growl than the laughter of a sentient creature. 

“You mean you can’t tell?”

Jen’s eyes widened. In front of them, silhouetted against the tunnel’s exit, was the most terrifying-looking Skeksis he’d seen yet. Bones of strange, fearsome creatures were fixed to his tunic and trousers in a kind of barbaric armor, and a ragged fur cloak covered him like the folded wings of a bird of prey. His face was bare, his eyes focused directly on Jen. 

_The dead cannot harm the living,_ Jen tried to remind himself, _the dead cannot harm the living…_

Mira, however, didn’t seem frightened at all. She looked at the bone-clad Skeksis with mild curiosity, as if he were no more than a Gelfling child who’d said something odd. “What are you talking about, skekMal?”

More memories from the library came back to Jen. _SkekMal, the one they called the Hunter. This is the one Aughra sacrificed herself to save? Then how did he still come to be here?_

SkekMal frowned, his sharp teeth showing. “Seems pretty clear to me. This one,” he pointed a talon at Jen, “is Rian’s whelp. I can smell it on him.” He narrowed his eyes at GraGoh. “ _You_ must’ve sensed it too. You knew Rian in life.”

GraGoh hesitated, glancing at Jen and Mira. Although his expression barely changed, the urSkek shade radiated unease. “...Yes, I could tell.” 

Jen wanted to shout, _And you weren’t going to tell me?_

How many more ancient beings were going to insist on keeping secrets from him?! Perhaps there was some knowledge a Gelfling truly couldn’t understand, but he could’ve handled _this!_

He had always wondered who his Gelfling family had been, ever since he was old enough to understand he was different from the urRu. He hadn’t loved urSu and the others any less, but it was still a missing line of the song of who he was. As he grew up and came to understand just how utterly the Gelfling had been destroyed, he’d accepted that he’d probably never find out, but the wondering had never completely stopped. 

Now, to be told he was the son of Rian, hero of the Resistance…

Another time, it would have brought him joy and pride. But here, in this gloomy place on the other side of death, it felt like another burden laid on top of the others he’d already shouldered. 

_And that’s probably why GraGoh didn’t tell me,_ part of him reflected. But his anger only faded a little. 

And poor Mira! She was staring at him with new eyes, her face full of hurt and confusion. For her to find out her beloved had moved on, had found a new love and fathered a child with them … that must ache, no matter how many trine had passed. 

“Maybe I should go on alone,” Jen said to the two of them. “Mira, I’ll understand if you don’t want to follow anymore.”

But the Gelfling shade shook her head. “No. I said I’d escort you, and I will.”

“And I promised I’d guide you,” GraGoh said. “There’ll be no more secrets, I promise that too.”

“... All right.” Jen stared ahead of him, where skekMal still stood in the tunnel exit, watching them. “I came here with a quest to complete. I’m going to save Thra, and you aren’t going to stop me.”

SkekMal remained motionless and silent. Jen had expected him to make some threat, or perhaps draw one of the many knives he still wore, but instead he seemed…

 _Defeated,_ was the word that came to mind. 

_Just like skekSa,_ Jen realized. _He’s no Hunter anymore. He can’t harm me, or anyone in this place, and he knows it._

He stepped through the mouth of the tunnel, and passed directly through skekMal’s form as easily as he might walk through a shadow. 

* * *

At last, after a long and silent passage, they came to a place Jen knew well. 

This spectral echo of the Crystal Chamber still looked much as it had during the reign of the Skeksis. The portals in the ceiling were still closed, the walls still covered in panels of dull stone and arcane symbols marking the floor. But the shaft that should have led to the fire at Thra’s heart was dark and cold, and above it, where the Crystal should have been…

The only way Jen could describe it was a hollow place in the air. It warped the faint light and mist around it by its absence, and it hurt his eyes to look at it. Seeing it was somehow worse than having the Crystal simply not be there. 

Gathered around it, backs to the darkened shaft, heads down and arms folded in meditation, were the urRu. 

Jen recognized urSu at once, and urTih beside him. Two others, with colorful manes and young, unlined faces and bodies (he could tell this because the two weren’t wearing a scrap of clothing) must be the other halves of skekHak and skekYi, who had died on the first day of division. The remaining three he did not know; the Mystics had told him the names of their lost brethren, but he did not know which name might belong to which ghost. 

And at the moment, he didn’t care. His attention was on urSu. 

“Master!” He ran toward him across the chamber, leaving GraGoh and Mira behind. 

UrSu’s eyes opened. Slowly, his head rose on his long neck. “...Jen?”

“Master, I’m here! Oh Master, I never thought I’d get to see you again.” 

He reached out with both arms, trying to embrace urSu, but his touch only passed through him. 

The Mystic was not smiling as he looked at the Gelfling. To Jen’s eyes, he looked even more old and weary than when he had been on his deathbed, if such a thing was possible. “Jen, you shouldn’t be here. I never would have wanted you to see this place.” 

“But Master, it’s all right! I’m still alive. I came here by my own choice, so I could see _you._ ”

There were so many things he wanted to tell him about. The healing of the Crystal, his life and travels with Kira, the baby they were expecting - Jen’s heart nearly burst with them all. It hurt to hold them in, but Jen called on the patience he had learned from urSu himself, knowing that his task must come first. 

“Master, the others have come back to Thra. They say the …” what had GraGoh said SoSu named it? “the Star-Shadow is coming. They say you alone have the knowledge of how to stop it.”

UrSu looked away sadly. “They are mistaken. All I have are dreams, from a life that is no longer mine.”

Jen’s ears flattened. “Master, this isn’t the time for riddles. Thra is in danger, and so is your old world.”

“We have no world anymore,” urSu whispered, still not meeting his eyes. “Save for this one. My place is here, with my brothers.”

“You’re not making sense. Master, the others told me it was your idea to first take action against the Star-Shadow! Don’t you _remember?_ ”

“He doesn’t.” GraGoh’s voice was soft and sad as he drifted to Jen’s side. “That’s what being divided does to us. We hold some memories from the time when we were one, but they’re faint and incomplete. Like dreams from someone else’s life.”

“But _you_ remember them!” Jen insisted. “You told me all about your life before!”

“Because I _did_ become one again,” GraGoh gestured to himself. “All the memories came back, dark and bright alike. What was fractured became whole.”

“Then…” Jen looked at urSu, who had bowed his head in meditation again. “If his halves -”

If GraGoh could still draw breath, he would have sighed. “Jen, I spent trine upon trine trying to make them see that. Even when his shards came here and saw that I was whole again, and happier for it, it wasn’t enough to convince them. Unity after death doesn’t require the power of a Great Conjunction, but that also means it cannot be forced.” 

Jen remembered the urSkek’s earlier words: _I wanted it._

“Master, I don’t understand. Why don’t you want to be whole again?” Jen looked up, addressing the other urRu. “Or any of you! Why are you keeping yourselves like this?”

“Because this is the burden we must bear,” urSu replied gravely. “For setting our dark halves free, and leaving them to ravage Thra. If we cannot truly destroy them, we may at least keep them imprisoned in this realm, where they can harm no one.”

“It is a penance we deserve,” agreed a scrawny urRu dressed in green, his mane cropped short under a floppy linen cap. 

“Only by this can we bring peace,” a large, heavyset urRu with a wilted flower tucked into his elaborate hood intoned. 

“We must always remember the harm we have done,” said a third, particularly ragged urRu who seemed to have glow-moss growing on his coat. 

The two young-looking ones said nothing, but bobbed their heads in assent. 

Last of all, urTih spoke up. His tone was kind, but as tired and sad as the others. “It doesn’t matter what we want, Jen. Our other halves do not want to be rejoined.”

The once-Alchemist turned his head slightly, looking at Jen with his good eye. The Gelfling stared at the glass one, and the wooden arm and leg that were still part of urTih’s shade. As a child, Jen had once asked him who hurt him so badly, and he still remembered the Mystic’s sorrowful answer: _“Someone who did not love himself.”_

Before he could ask any further, another Skeksis entered the Chamber. He was skinny even by the standards of their kind, with a narrow head and beak covered in thin, black-brown feathers that stood out against his tattered, colorful silks and ruffled white collar. 

“So it _is_ true!” he laughed. “A live Gelfling has graced us with a visit! Finally, something _interesting_ happens in this place.”

GraGoh’s corona flickered dark with displeasure. “What do you want, skekLi?”

The shade of skekLi clucked his tongue. “No need to be rude. I came to invite our new guest to the Emperor’s court.” He smirked. “He wants to see him.”

GraGoh floated forward, placing himself between Jen and the Skeksis. “ _No._ SkekSo’s done enough to Gelfling already.”

But Jen walked past him. “GraGoh, it’s all right. I’ll go with him. The Emperor’s dead, just like the others. He can’t harm me.”

“Not by his hand, perhaps,” urSu whispered, his head still bowed. “But my dark half has not lost his voice. Words can sometimes do more harm than any weapon.”

Jen faced his old Master, trying to keep his voice steady. “I know that. _You_ taught me that. But if you won’t listen to me now, I’ll have to try someone else.”

He saw urSu bend his head further in sorrow, and Jen immediately wished he could take his words back. 

But there wasn’t time to apologize now. If he had any chance of getting answers from skekSo instead, he had to try. 

With GraGoh and Mira still beside him, Jen followed skekLi out of the Chamber and down a grand hall. Even before they arrived, Jen knew where they were headed. He had never personally seen the Skeksis’ imperial throne room while it was in use (after the healing of the Crystal, the Podlings had turned it into a gathering hall for meals and celebrations), but he’d glimpsed it in Kira’s memories. Some months after the Conjunction, when she could look back on the ordeal without nightmares, she had dreamfasted to him what happened to her after the Chamberlain took her captive. 

This echo of the throne room looked as Kira had shown him, but colorless and gloomy, swirling with more of that gray-violet fog. As he started to step through the entrance arch, Mira hesitated - for the first time since Jen had met her, she looked afraid. 

“Thank you for escorting me,” he whispered, wishing again that he could comfort her. "I can go the rest of the way on my own.”

She nodded, relieved, and stepped back into the shadows. 

With GraGoh still beside him, Jen approached the massive, claw-like throne. SkekLi stood nearby, joining the three other Skeksis in attendance. Two were unknown to Jen - the bulky, armor-clad one and the short one sporting what looked like some nasty pustules - but he recognized the one closest to the throne. He’d seen _him_ in Kira’s memories too; there was no forgetting that glowing, swiveling mechanical eye. 

And there, seated on the throne, was the one Jen had come to see. 

SkekSo, the dark half of his Master. The one who had unleashed the Darkening, and led the genocide of the Gelfling. 

“Ah, here you are.” SkekSo looked down at Jen, his fang-filled mouth curved in amusement. “The last Gelfling, who eluded us long enough to fulfill the prophecy. And now, let me guess. You’re here on some new quest to save the world?”

“I’m here because of the Star-Shadow.” Jen forced himself to stay calm and show no fear. It was getting easier. “I’ve come seeking your help, and urSu’s, to stop it. If we don’t, it’ll devour the urSkeks’ world soon.”

SkekSo laughed darkly. “Good. Let it.”

“How can you say that?” GraGoh demanded, his corona brightening in his anger. “You, the only one of the Council who wanted to take action? Your most loyal followers have come back to Thra just to seek your wisdom!”

“They have no loyalty to _me,_ ” skekSo growled. “No more than you do, Heretic. They turned from me before I was even dead. No sooner were my ashes cold than they forgot me for a new emperor.”

He shot a pointed look at the Skeksis with the mechanical eye, who immediately cringed and cast his eyes down. “Forgive me, Sire,” he pleaded, his voice raspy and weak. “Had it been within my power, you would have lived forever!”

SkekSo gave a brief nod of approval at his answer, and turned his cold eyes back on Jen. “Why should I save the ones who turned their backs on the empire I worked so hard to build? And why _ever_ would I want to save the world that cast us out to begin with?”

He gestured with the scepter he still carried in death, swinging it in a wide arc as he indicated the ghostly throne room around them. “Here in this place, age and death cannot touch us. Here, I have my most devoted followers by my side,” he gestured to the four Skeksis, who smiled at his praise, “and I know they will always remain so. _Here,_ at last, I am Emperor eternal!”

The moment he had laid eyes on skekSo, Jen had known there was something in his appearance different from the other Skeksis. Only now, as he gestured and roared, did the Gelfling realize what it was. 

The other four all looked old and worn, just as skekMal and skekSa had - the way they must have looked at the time they died. But although skekSo had died at the same time as urSu, who had been so ancient and so sick, he still looked young now. His imperial robes were rich, his sickle-shaped headdress gleamed like a crescent moon, and his plumage was lush and glossy, shaded with all the colors of nightfall. 

_How can that be?_ Jen thought. _What magic is he drawing on?_

“Your quest has failed, Gelfling,” skekSo sneered. “Go back to the world of the living, and give the Star-Shadow my regards.”

* * *

**_To Be Continued..._ **


	8. Chapter 8

Back in the living world, the night stretched on. 

It was late enough for the first Sister to have set, but Kira still hadn’t moved. She sat cross-legged at the edge of the fiery shaft with Fizzgig by her side, and her eyes were fixed on Jen’s still and silent form lying beneath the Crystal. The blue glow that had come over him when he drank Aughra’s brew had faded, but his body had not moved. His spirit was still separated, in that unknown realm where Kira could not follow. 

Her back and knees were aching, but she paid them no mind. “Are you _sure_ he’s still all right?” she asked UngIm again. 

“Yes.” The Physician kept his tone patient as he assured her for what felt like the hundredth time. He held out a spread hand towards Jen as he went on, “All the cycles of his body are still in balance.” Then, after considering for a moment, he turned to AyukAmaj beside him. “He does need some more hydration, though.”

“My pleasure.” With his corona glowing softly, the Culinarian levitated a glass jug in his right hand. The broth inside was almost as clear as water, but rich in nutrients the urSkek had formulated; as he made circles in the air with his left hand, a small amount floated out. A touch of telekinesis opened Jen’s mouth, and the broth flowed through the air in a delicate stream, past his lips and down his throat. 

“You don’t need to worry, Kira,” AyukAmaj said. It was a relief to all the urSkeks to finally have learned her name. “He won’t suffer any harm from hunger or thirst while I watch over him.”

Kira did not answer, or turn her eyes from Jen. She knew the urSkek was trying to be comforting, but watching him manipulate her beloved’s seemingly lifeless body was disturbing - like watching his corpse be prepared for burial. 

“You would benefit from some rest yourself,” UngIm added, holding his spread hand out to the Gelfling woman as he read her vital signs too. 

Kira shook her head. “No, I’m fine.”

“He’s right,” Aughra spoke up from where she was still sitting nearby. “You should get some rest. You won’t be doing Jen any favors by exhausting yourself.” She gave Kira a pointed look. “Or the baby.”

Kira’s shoulders tensed, and Fizzgig looked up at her with a worried whine as she raised her voice. “ _No._ I promised Jen I’d watch over him. I’m not leaving.” 

Hup approached her with a gentle smile. {“Don’t worry. I’ll watch over him tonight. On my honor as a paladin,”} he raised his spoon-arm, {“he’ll be safe.”}

She hesitated. For all she spoke Gelfling so much these days, Podling was still the language of her childhood, and the sound of it brought her comfort where words alone could not. {“Will you come get me if he wakes up?”}

He gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze. {“I promise.”}

{“... All right.”} She got to her feet. “Fine. Since you all seem to know so well what’s good for me, I’ll go to bed! Fizzgig, _teymah!_ ”

Part of her regretted the angry words as soon as she said them, and part of her was embarrassed to turn on her heel and stamp away like a childling after a tantrum. But neither part stopped her from doing it. 

The anger and worry did not ebb away as she made her way up to her and Jen’s bedchamber. She changed from her summer dress to a loose sleeping gown, and invited Fizzgig up onto the bed with her; Jen preferred not to share their bed with him, but he wasn’t there to object, and she needed the furry creature’s comfort. She tried to settle under the covers, but the churning feelings in her heart would not let her rest. 

She feared for Jen, and missed the warmth of him in the bed beside her. She feared the dark force that the urSkeks had described - it was hard for her to imagine such a thing, having grown up with folk who seldom thought beyond their own planet and its seasons, but it was all the more frightening for its strangeness. And, perhaps more than anything, she feared the urSkeks themselves. 

She hadn’t witnessed the reunion of the Skeksis and Mystics (seeing as she’d been dead at the time), but Jen had dreamfasted the moment to her in the days afterward. She remembered the awe she had felt when she opened her eyes and drew breath again, and had seen the shining, ethereal beings depart Thra on the light of the Great Conjunction. 

When she’d learned that those wondrous beings were the same Skeksis who’d terrorized her and her family for as long as she could remember, that awe had faded quickly. 

The fact that they were also (somehow) the kindly Mystics she’d seen in Jen’s memories didn’t change that. Kira had never met the Mystics; she had no happy memories of them of her own to counter the evil of the Skeksis. The urSkeks had seemed sincere enough in their tale earlier, but whatever Jen and Aughra might say, Kira still did not trust them. 

She tossed and turned a while longer (it didn’t help that it was getting too uncomfortable to sleep on her stomach), before she finally accepted that sleep wasn’t coming. Pulling on a light cloak over her gown, she left the bedchamber, and made her way out into the night. After a moment (and with a sleepy grumble), Fizzgig followed at her heels. 

The covered walkway that encircled the tower was still warm from the heat of the day. Kira followed it until she came to an open balcony where the breezes flowed freer. Adjusting her cloak, she spread her wings to enjoy the feel of the air on them, and climbed up to sit on the edge of the parapet. 

From the moment her wings had first started to grow, Ydra had warned her that it was dangerous to fly too much, lest she attract the attention of Crystal Bats. Even so, she’d tried to practice when she could - jumping from high banks, or between the branches of trees, trying to catch the wind the way instinct urged her. But she’d never been able to achieve more than a barely-controlled glide. Even now, after seven trine of being able to fly without fear, she could not keep herself aloft under her own power for long. 

_Why,_ she wondered. Was it part of the mixed legacy she’d now learned she came from, or just some malformity she’d been born with? 

She didn’t know, and might never know. Another thing the Skeksis had taken from her. 

Still, gliding could be fun on its own, and spending the energy might bring her some peace now. She gave Fizzgig a reassuring pat, and stretched her wings to their full span. 

Before she could drop from the balcony, however, Fizzgig gave a nervous growl, and started to bark. Kira looked, and saw a too-familiar golden light approaching down the walkway. 

She turned to the urSkek. “What’s wrong? Is Jen all right?”

“Jen is fine.” The urSkek dimmed his corona a little as he drifted closer. “He still walks in the other realm, but no harm has come to him. It is you I wish to speak to, Kira.”

She frowned. “Which one are you?” They might have different voices, but except for NaNol, with his missing eye and fingers, all the urSkeks still looked the same to her. 

“My name is SilSol. They call me the Cantor.” Then, as if thinking she needed another way to remember him, he raised his right hand. On the back, marring the ivory skin, was a small gray-brown scar: the same place where Jen had cut skekSil’s hand with the Crystal shard, and unknowingly spilled urSol’s blood at the same time. 

Kira’s frown deepened. _So, you’re_ **_him._ **

“What do you want?”

He moved closer, until he was beside her. Kira resisted the urge to glide from the balcony just to get away from him. 

“... No apology can undo the harm my kind have done,” he said, after a long and weighted pause. “But I want to offer one anyway. Kira, I’m sorry. I’m so terribly sorry. Not just for what my dark shard did. For _everything._ ” 

Kira lowered her wings, her shoulders tensing as she looked up at him. “And what? You want me to say I forgive you?”

SilSol did not answer, but the way his corona flickered suggested that was exactly what he’d been hoping. 

“Well, I _don’t,_ ” she snapped. “You’ve done nothing to deserve forgiveness. You killed people, you ruined our world, and as soon as you were one again, you ran away and left Jen and me to clean up your mess.” 

His corona dimmed abruptly. “That was never our intention. We feared bringing more harm to Thra if we stayed! We believed you were the rightful guardians of your world’s Crystal.” 

She thought of the ragged, wheedling Skeksis who had confronted her and Jen, desperately insisting he only wanted peace. How, as soon as it was clear they wouldn’t fall for his lies, he had tried to murder Jen and had given Kira to the others to be killed. “Did you _truly_ believe that? Or were you just too afraid to face what you’d done?”

“Would you have wanted us to stay?” His tone was still calm, but there was an edge to it. 

Kira’s eyes narrowed in anger. “You could have at least done _something._ All you did was go home and try to forget everything.” She didn’t know this for sure - it was a guess based on their earlier story - but from the way SilSol’s corona turned gray, she knew her words had struck a nerve. “And you’re only here now because your own world’s in danger. You don’t care about Thra, or any of us.” 

“That is not true!” The glow in his eyes brightened like a flaring ember. “You are not the only one who worries for Jen now, Kira. I may have been skekSil the Chamberlain, but I was _also_ urSol the Chanter. I raised Jen with urSu and the others. I loved him like my own child, and I still carry that love now. I want to save Thra not merely because it’s right, but because it means saving _him!_ ”

Kira hesitated. She wanted to believe he was still lying, but the passion in his voice felt more genuine than anything she’d heard from his Skeksis half. 

But she wasn’t ready to let go of her anger. “Fine. But what happens after that? You said you broke the laws of your world by coming here. They already banished you once. What if they don’t let you come back this time?”

“... I have considered that,” he admitted. “If our Council exiles us again, we will not remain on Thra if you do not want us. We’ll find some uninhabited world to serve out our exile, where our presence will harm no one.”

Kira, who knew that so-called uninhabited places usually still teemed with living things, was not convinced. 

She looked down at the Bah-Lem Valley, spread out below them in the night. The smell of the river wafted up, rich and full of life, mingling with the scents of warm earth and flowering summer crops. “I don’t understand why you wanted to go back so badly anyway.” 

SilSol tilted his head as if she had asked something nonsensical. “Because it is our _home._ Wouldn’t you want to return to Thra, if someone forced you to leave?”

“Of course I would!” She kept her eyes on the valley as she spoke. “But no one on Thra ever wanted me to destroy part of my soul.” 

His eyes flashed. “How do you know about that?”

“Aughra told us. She said your people made you leave because you wouldn’t follow the same ways as the rest of them, and you thought the only way they’d let you come back was if you burned away the dark parts of yourselves.” Kira shook her head. “A world that would make someone do that to themselves doesn’t sound like any world _I’d_ want to be part of.” 

SilSol was silent for a long moment. Kira’s words had brought back a memory from over a thousand trine ago, when another of Thra’s people had said something very similar. 

“... We were wrong to do that. We all know it now. But our darker selves _are_ dangerous. To master them is supposed to be the duty of all urSkeks, but some evils are better destroyed than allowed to survive. Surely you, Kira, can agree with that?”

She shook her head again. “The Podlings believe that even the darkest parts of us can become our strengths, if they’re tempered by a good heart. Biting tockweed has oily thorns that give you a rash if you touch them, but those thorns keep its flowers safe until the zamba-flies come to pollinate them.” She looked down at Fizzgig, who was sitting backed up against the parapet and watching SilSol warily. “Or Fizzgig! He doesn’t trust anything strange to him, but his fear’s warned me of danger and saved us both many times.” Turning around where she sat, she reached down and lifted the graying furball into her lap. 

A tiny smile crept across SilSol’s mouth as he watched them. “You know, I have a companion of my own, back on our world. A species we call bohrtog.”

In spite of herself, Kira was curious to learn about an animal from another planet. “Really? What do they look like?”

“Imagine a vast water-serpent, with the face of a bird and six finned wings. They fly through the air by their own magic, and they live for thousands of trine.” His corona glowed softly, with clear fondness. “Mine is the deep blue of the sky at dawn. When I was exiled, he was no longer than the span of my arms. Imagine my surprise when I returned to find he had grown to be one of the largest of his kind.” 

Kira tilted her head. “What’s his name?”

SilSol’s smile grew. “That is my secret to keep. Bohrtogs share their true name only with the one they bond to, and to hold onto it is part of that bond.” 

Kira stroked her pet’s fur. “I named Fizzgig after I learned the Gelfling word for his kind. If I’d been a little older, I might have tried something more creative.”

“I think it serves him well.” SilSol was silent for a moment, as if weighing something in his mind … and then, cautiously, he held out a hand to the furry creature. 

Fizzgig gave a loud warning growl, and at first, Kira thought he was going to bite the urSkek. But he quieted as SilSol kept his hand still, and simply stared at him, yellow eyes wide. Finally, he gave the pale fingers a cautious sniff. 

He found the smell odd, judging from the way his nose wrinkled, and Kira didn’t blame him - up close like this, _she_ could smell the urSkek, and his scent was sharp and full of energy, like the air after a thunderstorm. 

But other than that, Fizzgig did not seem bothered. He cocked his round body in curiosity ... and then, standing up on his paws, he briefly touched SilSol’s hand with his nose. 

SilSol drew back his hand in surprise. The feeling of that warm little nose had been strange, but nice. In fact, he was tempted to pet the creature, but knew that would still be too much after all that had happened. 

“Every world has its imperfections,” he said. “But there are still parts of mine that I love. My bohrtog, my fellow musicians, the city where I first learned to sing … if what we have done in coming here means I will never see them again, it will hurt, but it will be worth it to know they are safe. Just as it will for Jen, and all of Thra.” 

As Fizzgig settled back into her lap, Kira kept her eyes on SilSol. She still wasn’t ready to forgive him or his kind for all they had done, and she would absolutely never forget it. 

But if he truly was willing to risk so much to save them, then maybe she could risk just a little trust. 

* * *

Down in the Crystal Chamber, Aughra shook her head. It had been a while since Kira left, but her departure still weighed on all their minds. “Poor girl. So frightened and full of anger. _Right_ to be frightened, but that doesn’t make it any easier.”

“I don’t blame her.” UngIm looked down at the still-unconscious Jen. “It isn’t right for him to have to do this alone. He may have the best chance of any of us at reaching SoSu, but there ought to be _something_ the rest of us can do.”

“Indeed!” Aughra turned her eye on ShodYod, who was stationed on the far side of the shaft. “You said you knew where the Devouring was now. Why didn’t you go investigate yourself? Or any of you!” she barked at the other urSkeks. “Could’ve tried to go find your own answers, instead of trusting the dead to have them all!”

ShodYod hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “When there isn’t a path between Crystals, it takes time to travel through space. Even the fastest particles of light can take centuries to cross the void. I feared wasting time on such a journey when I did not know what I might find.”

“Hmph! And feared for your own neck too, no doubt.” The words were unkind, but Aughra didn’t bother holding them in. “Well, too late to change what’s past.”

She looked up through the open triangular portals, where the stars spread out above them. “Curse it! If I still had my orrery, I’d go take a look at the thing myself. Never had to waste time crossing the void in body when I could project my mind where I wanted. But no,” she snarled, pointing her walking stick at UngIm, “ _your_ crab-brained soldiers had to destroy it! All burned up, all ruined, and all for nothing! Didn’t even get the Gelfling you were looking for!”

UngIm dimmed his corona. “I am sorry for what I took from you, Mother Aughra.” 

It wasn’t only the loss of the orrery she grieved for, he knew. That place on the high hill had been Aughra’s home long before the urSkeks arrived. It was where she had lived with Raunip when he was young, and kept the memories of him. UngIm hadn’t been Aughra’s closest friend among the urSkeks (that honor had belonged to TekTih and MalVa), but they’d still shared a bond after he healed her from the burns she received in the first Great Conjunction, and he could imagine how much his final betrayal must have hurt her. 

Hup still sat at the end of the crystal bridge where Jen rested, guarding him. Lenev, who had watched the urSkeks from a wary distance throughout the day, had finally worked up the courage to come closer, and she sat beside the old Podling now, ready to support him through his vigil. 

When she’d decided to join Hup and the two Gelfling on their journey, Lenev had expected to see strange new places and creatures, but never something like _this._ She’d grown up hearing stories of the Skeksis from Hup and her Gruenak elders, and she’d understood that these were the same terrible beings now returned. But her fear of them hadn’t been enough to overcome her love for the Podling who had been like a father to her, or the curiosity that drove her to seek out the Crystal in the first place. 

She listened now as Aughra and the urSkeks conversed. Thanks to whatever magic connected the ancient sage to Thra, she could understand every word - but one was new to her. 

She spoke up now, and asked Aughra in the tongue of the Gruenaks. 

“Hm?” Aughra turned to Lenev, surprised. “What is an orrery? No, guess you wouldn’t have seen one before. It’s a great moving model of the heavens. Shows all the paths of the suns, moons, and stars. Lets you know where to find anything in the universe.” 

Lenev cocked her head, and asked again. 

“A machine? Well, yes. Still takes some work on my part to send my awareness through it, but the orrery itself was a machine.”

Lenev asked one more question, and Aughra’s good eye widened. 

“... Make another one?”

The Gruenak nodded eagerly. Gesturing as she spoke, she suggested that the new orrery need not depict _all_ the celestial bodies, only the ones Aughra would need to guide her to the place in space where the Devouring could be found.

“... Yes!” Aughra stamped her walking stick on the floor. “Wish Aughra had thought of that herself! Trust a Gruenak to be mechanically minded.” She looked up at ShodYod. “You helped build it last time. What she says, _would_ it work if we made such a thing?”

The Arithmetician hesitated again, his corona gray. “It … should. But I only helped with the calculations and scaling. TekTih designed most of it.” 

“And _I_ remember that his design would have been useless without your calculations,” OkAc chimed in, drifting closer. “EktUtt was right, you need to have more confidence in yourself! Even when we were divided, with so much of our knowledge forgotten, urYod knew the stars better than anyone.”

“Maybe. But I do not know all the materials that were used, or how TekTih balanced the mechanisms against the angles of eternity.”

The Chronicler’s corona brightened. “Perhaps I can help with that. When you and TekTih were building the orrery, I kept a record of it, as I did for all our works in those days. It may still be in the archives.” He looked at Aughra. “Is the library still intact?”

Aughra frowned. “Yes. No knowledge is gone from there that _you_ did not destroy yourself.”

OkAc’s corona rippled in offense. “I admit, my dark shard was … not always objective in what he chose to preserve. But I remember every one of the urSkek records I removed from the collection, and that wasn’t one of them. The orrery was no secret, so there was no need to fear the knowledge getting out.” 

“Then what are we waiting for?” Aughra gestured with her walking stick. “Quickly! Off to the library, both of you!” As she turned to go with them, she paused, and laid a hand on Lenev’s shoulder. “You come too. Still going to need someone who understands machines.”

The Gruenak perked up, undeniably excited to join the new project, but she hesitated as she looked at Hup. 

With a smile, the Podling shook his head. {“I’ll be fine. You go with them.”}

He added one thing more in Gruenak language. Lenev nodded fiercely, and threw her long arms around him in a tight hug. 

Watching them, Aughra smiled. The same magic that let all the creatures of Thra understand her also let her understand them, and she knew exactly what Hup had told Lenev. 

_Save our world._

* * *

**_To Be Continued..._ **


	9. Chapter 9

The mocking laughter of the Skeksis still rang in Jen’s ears as he walked away. 

He knew this shouldn’t hurt as much as it did. Hadn’t he told Aughra and the urSkeks that he knew skekSo wouldn’t listen to a Gelfling? Trying to talk to him had been as fruitless as he’d said, and he’d never had the right to hope otherwise. 

But even so, he _had_ hoped, and it _did_ hurt. 

GraGoh stayed by his side as they made their way down the hall. “I know how you feel,” he said, his voice low. “They wouldn’t listen to me either.” 

“I don’t understand. How can he not care about his own people? They served him for a thousand trine. Doesn’t that mean _anything_ to him?” Jen looked back. “And the others! Why do they still follow him? Don’t _they_ care?”

The dead urSkek looked at him gently. “You truly do have a good heart, Jen. And that can make it hard to understand those who do not. SoSu was a great leader once, but his dark shard cares for nothing except himself. When you were part of his court, the only way to survive was to follow his example.” 

Jen hesitated. He’d been quick to trust the urSkek at the beginning, despite knowing he’d once been a Skeksis too, but those words turned his thoughts back to the mysterious, stricken-from-history skekGra. “Were _you_ part of it?”

“Yes, and I was as vile as any of them. They used to call me the Conqueror. I spread skekSo’s empire across all the known world. But when my shards came before him with their vision from Thra, he still turned on me, and so did the others. Even the ones I’d considered my friends.” 

“Is that why he called you Heretic?” _And why he tried to erase your name?_

“Yes. Not that the Mystics were much better,” GraGoh went on. “My shards tried to convince urSu too. He wasn’t as, shall we say, _pointed_ in his refusal, but he still wouldn’t listen.” 

Jen tried (and failed) to keep the frustration out of his voice. “Why are you telling me all this? Are you saying I should give up? That SoSu’s halves will never listen to anyone?”

GraGoh’s scattered corona flared in a burst of light motes. “What? No, not at all! I wouldn’t have tried to reach the other side if I thought there was no hope! But I promised you no more secrets. I only want you to understand what you’re facing.”

“Well, you’ve made it clear _._ ” He looked up at the urSkek. “I’m grateful for you guiding me here, GraGoh. I’ll remember everything you’ve said. But I think I need to do this on my own.” 

_You didn’t succeed in convincing them before,_ he thought. _Whatever the answer is, you don’t have it. I’ll have to find my own way._

GraGoh drew back, his corona dimmed almost to nothing. “... I understand.”

* * *

The urRu were still as Jen had last seen them, gathered in meditation around the distortion where the Crystal should be. As he approached, urSu slowly looked up. 

“My dark half did not listen.” It wasn’t a question, but a soft statement of fact. 

“No.” Jen stood before the ghostly Mystic. “But I had to try, Master. You and he are the only ones with the knowledge that can save us.” He remembered urSu’s earlier words, and how GraGoh had described what it felt like for an urSkek’s mind to be divided. “Even if all you have now are dreams, that’s still _something._ Please, tell me. Maybe it will be enough.”

UrSu met his eyes. For the first time, through the heavy gray sorrow, Jen saw a hint of the kindness he remembered so well. 

“I do want to help you, Jen. But I fear my answers are not the ones you need. I remember only that the Star-Shadow is a thing of death. The one who became two knew this. His designs would only have brought more death, but he would not see this.” He lowered his eyes. “He was a fool, and he led others into folly.”

In that moment, Jen understood. 

When he was young, he’d often perceived that the Mystics seemed to carry some immense, unspoken guilt. After he’d learned the truth of their connection to the Skeksis, it had all made sense; they regretted not only unleashing their darker halves, but their own lack of action to stop them, and urSu had regretted most of all. Jen had been content thinking that was the whole tale. 

But SoSu’s guilt had begun long before the moment of division. It was his actions on the urSkeks’ homeworld that had sent the Twice-Nine into exile. He blamed himself for inspiring the others to defy their people’s way of life, and for failing to bring all those who had followed him safely home again. 

And this broken half of his soul still carried that remorse, but could not (or would not?) right the wrongs he had done. 

“But if you _do_ know what the Star-Shadow is, then we can find another way!” Jen insisted. “Didn’t you tell me that one can often gain more wisdom by taking the less direct path, even if it takes longer?”

A faint smile appeared on urSu’s wrinkled face. “When you asked why we seemed to speak in riddles so much. Yes, I remember.” 

“So remember more!” Jen drew closer. “You saved me when I was a baby. You raised me. You sent me to heal the Crystal. _Why,_ if it was all for nothing?”

“... One small act can change much. I could not save all the Gelfling, but I hoped, by saving you, I might still alter the course of fate. But you saved me too, Jen.”

“What do you mean?”

The old Mystic’s eyes were still sad, but his smile was not gone. “You brought me happiness I never thought I could feel again. Watching you grow, and teaching you, gave my own life purpose for the first time in centuries. And at the end …”

Jen tilted his head. “Master?”

UrSu’s smile faded, but his voice was steady. “You deserve to know the truth of my death. When the Great Conjunction drew close, I knew my dark half would seek all the harder to prevent the prophecy. He had been weakened, but might yet have survived to be renewed by the Conjunction. I could not let that happen. I had already let him destroy so much, I could not let him ruin Thra’s final chance to be healed. So I turned my energies inward. By embracing my own death, I could remove at least one danger from your path.” 

For a moment, Jen could only stare as the weight of those words sank in. He had never known what the nameless sickness was that had come upon his Master in those final days, or why urIm hadn’t been able to do more than give some comfort to ease his pain. 

_Oh Master, why didn’t you tell me?_

UrSu smiled again. “And I was afraid, at the end. I did not know what might await me on the other side. But when you were with me, Jen, I remembered why I had made this choice. In that moment, _you_ gave me the courage I needed.” 

Although he had to know he wouldn’t be able to touch him, urSu reached out to Jen anyway. And Jen, with no hesitation, reached back. His hand passed through urSu’s, but he held it there, even so. 

“Master … I never knew.”

“You did not need to. Your mind was where it should have been, on the quest ahead of you. And that is still where it should be.” He curled his much-larger fingers around Jen’s hand, the way he used to when the Gelfling was little. “You should go back to the world of the living.”

Jen drew his hand back sharply. They were said with more kindness, but they were still the same words skekSo had said. “What?”

“Your place is there, saving what can be saved. You shouldn’t trouble yourself with my fate.” UrSu glanced around at the other urRu, who had not stirred from their meditation. “Our part in the song is done, and we accept that we will remain here.” 

“... No!” Jen stepped back. “Master, you know that I’ve always trusted your wisdom. You taught me so much, and I’ll always remember your lessons.” 

He looked at the sad, silent urTih, so changed from the curious, creative Alchemist who had taught him fire-lighting and the properties of stone and metal. He watched the two young-looking ones (urYa and urHom, he remembered, those must be their names), who hadn’t lived long enough for their counterparts to harm Thra, yet had accepted that they too deserved penance. 

“But you’re wrong about this. You don’t deserve to stay here forever, any more than the Gelfling do. And if I can find a way to get them out, then … then I’ll find a way to free _you_ as well. _All_ of you. I promise it.” 

Jen turned from his Master, and walked out of the Crystal Chamber. 

He managed to reach the archway before tears came. 

* * *

In the Castle as Jen knew it, a wide bridge of living wood and vines connected the entrance hall to the land outside. The Podlings had spent many seasons lovingly helping it to grow over the restored moat, and it had flowered into a thing of strength and beauty. 

There was no such bridge here. There wasn’t even the narrow, twisted one the Skeksis had left in place for the Garthim, after they stopped venturing outside the Castle themselves. In this realm, the entrance hall simply ended, the outer gate opening into nothing. When Jen looked out over the edge, he could only see more gray-violet fog. 

For a moment, he wondered what might happen if he were to step out into that emptiness. Would he walk on air? Would he fall? If he did, would _that_ bring him harm, if nothing else in this realm did?

Jen pushed those thoughts away quickly. He still had a quest ahead of him, and no matter how hopeless it might seem, he could not turn from it. He could not allow such thoughts. 

He let himself cry for a little longer. UrSu had told him once that there was no shame in weeping, for it allowed the spirit to let strong feelings flow free, instead of holding them inside where they might bring harm. As the tears subsided, though, he didn’t feel any better. 

It hurt to tell urSu he was wrong. But what good were the urRu doing by punishing themselves now? Why were they still refusing to help when their world was in danger?

Jen couldn’t understand it. And if he couldn’t understand, how was he supposed to reach them?

He sat down on the edge of the open gateway, and gazed out into the fog. 

He didn’t know how long he stayed there. With the realm in eternal twilight, and separated from the rhythms of his living body, Jen had no way to measure time. What must it be like for the souls who had been trapped in this place for so many trine, he wondered? Did _they_ have any sense of how long they’d been here? Even the creatures he’d seen on his underground journey had been able to feel themselves living and growing in the darkness - the dead did not even have that. 

He couldn’t leave them to this fate. But he was still no closer to finding an answer. 

* * *

The sound of slow, measured footsteps approached behind him. Jen turned his head. 

GraGoh was there, drifting toward him through the shadows, and beside him was an urRu Jen hadn’t seen before. His spiral-marked skin was a warm sandy color, and he wore part of his mane tied up in a long, high tail. 

“I hope you don’t mind,” GraGoh said, “but there was another who wished to see you.”

The urRu smiled, and bowed his head politely. “I am urVa. It’s an honor to meet the one who healed the Crystal.”

“I wish I felt worthy of honor,” Jen replied quietly. “Healing the Crystal won’t mean anything if I can’t stop the Star-Shadow. I thought I could get urSu to help me, but I was wrong.” He looked out at the void again. “Maybe Aughra _should_ have been the one to come here.” 

GraGoh’s corona was faint, but warm. “Mother Aughra has many gifts, but patience for those who won’t listen has never been one. I’m glad she chose to send you instead. And I don’t believe she or my brothers would have done it if they didn’t have faith in you.”

Jen did not look back. “Or else they felt they had no choice.”

“There is always another choice.” The new urRu - urVa - walked closer, until he stood by Jen’s side. “It may not be easy to accept, or easy to follow, but there is always another path to be found. Even now, you could leave this realm, yet you choose to stay.”

Jen remembered that when Aughra first explained the ritual, he’d asked her how he was supposed to return. Her answer had been maddeningly vague: _“You’ll know when the time comes.”_

He still hadn’t figured that out. He didn’t even know if she’d been speaking from experience, or hinting at something she’d glimpsed with her prophet’s sight. 

But as he listened to urVa now, he felt new strength take root inside him. 

It wasn’t the time to return. He knew that in his heart. There _must_ still be a way for his quest to succeed, even if he couldn’t see it yet. 

He looked at urVa closely now. The Mystic’s face was deeply lined and wrinkled, but his eyes were open, with none of the heavy sorrow that weighed down the others. And he was here now, seeking Jen out, instead of holding himself in motionless penance. 

Like GraGoh, something about him was different. 

“UrVa … I remember the other Mystics spoke of you. You were known as the Archer. You used your arrows to guide those out in the wilds.”

The Mystic smiled. “I did, but I left my arrows behind in death. Now I am only urVa.”

Jen thought of skekSa and urSan, who could not be Mariner or Swimmer anymore, and seemed trapped in despair over their loss. “And that doesn’t make you sad?”

“A little,” he admitted. “It is not easy to let go of the bonds that held you in life. But sometimes it can also be liberating. In death, you need only be yourself.”

“I wish the other Mystics saw it that way,” Jen said in quiet anger. “All they can think about is the bad things they did in life. They’re so determined to punish themselves, they can’t see where they’re truly needed!”

GraGoh drifted closer. “It vexes me too, but try not to judge them too harshly.” He gestured at the empty hall around them. “This realm isn’t a place of punishment. There’s nothing here except what you bring in your own heart. But if you died with your heart full of guilt … well, there’s not much here to distract you from that, is there? It becomes all you can think about.” 

“Especially for my kind,” urVa added. “It is in our nature to wait, and to ponder, rather than to act. I am not surprised the others succumbed as they have.”

“So why haven’t _you?_ ” Jen faced him, shifting where he sat. “Why aren’t you in there with urSu and the others?”

UrVa looked thoughtful. “Not all the Mystics followed urSu’s ways in life, and not all do so in death. He believes Thra placed us here with our dark halves so we might keep them imprisoned. But I have pursued my own meditations. After all this time ... I cannot help wondering if Thra has _another_ reason for bringing us all together.” 

GraGoh’s corona darkened. “Oh! So _now_ you think my shards were right. Too bad you couldn’t have supported me when we were alive!” The urSkek managed to calm himself down, but his corona stayed hazy with doubt. “Very well. I suppose a late vindication is better than none. But unity cannot happen unless both halves are willing. Even if _you_ might listen, what makes you think the rest will ever change their minds?”

“Because there is something new now.”

Jen perked his ears. “And what’s that?”

UrVa turned to the Gelfling. “You.”

“... But _I_ don’t know how to bring SoSu’s halves together! I couldn’t even get urSu to tell me about the Star-Shadow!”

“Even so, you are the answer, Jen. You only have to see it in yourself.” UrVa gave him another gentle smile. “Think on it. When I was alive, I practiced with my bow when I needed to focus my thoughts. Is there something that might help you?”

“... Yes. I play my firca.” He started to reach for it, and then remembered. “But I left it back in the living world.” He could still picture it, resting on a crystal shelf where he’d taken it off the night before.

UrVa tilted his head. “Are you so sure?”

“ _Yes._ I meant to go back for it after we talked to Aughra this morning, but I never got the chance.” 

“None of us have had the chance to go back for anything,” replied the Mystic. “Yet our things are here with us now. My bow and arrows have been left behind, but I have my coat that urUtt made for me. The dead Gelfling have the clothes they wore in life. My dark half has his blades, and urSu’s dark half has his scepter. If your firca is such a part of you, why should it not be with you now?”

Jen closed his eyes, trying to understand. He remembered his first thought, that this realm was like a dream. If that was true, _was_ it possible he could shape the dream, even a little?

He remembered something urSol had told him once, when the Mystic was first teaching him to play. _“This firca is well-made, but any tool is only as fine as the crafter who wields it. An instrument is silent without a musician to play it, but a musician may hold countless songs in his heart, even when he carries no instrument. The music comes from_ **_you,_ ** _Jen. Always remember that.”_

Jen reached again, and this time, he felt the wood of the firca under his fingers. 

He opened his eyes, still not quite believing, and brought the mouthpiece to his lips. Dream or not, it _felt_ real. When he blew a note, it rang out clear and bright in the desolate hall. 

At the sight of the humble firca, GraGoh’s corona flickered, as if something had intrigued him. “Where _did_ you get that?”

“I don’t know,” the Gelfling replied simply. “Maybe urSol gave it to me, or maybe I had it before the Mystics ever found me. But I’ve had it as long as I can remember.”

And as he thought of urSol, he knew exactly what he wanted to play. 

The song started out low, a single soft melody, as if calling out from somewhere impossibly far away. UrSol had taught it to him late in his lessons, and he remembered that the Chanter had seemed unsure about doing so. 

_“This is a song of my own composing,”_ he had said. _“I heard another Gelfling play it once, a long time ago. I … did not appreciate it then. But I would like to hear you play it, Jen. And I would like you to help me change it.”_

It had seemed strange the first time Jen heard it. The key was different from all other music of Thra - otherworldly, in the same way the Mystics’ chanting often seemed. But even in its strangeness, it had been beautiful, and yet full of such sadness and longing as the Gelfling could barely imagine. 

He played that lonely, longing melody now. And whether it was because of the deathly stillness of the air, because he played from his soul instead of by mortal breath, or because of some other, nameless power, the song began to carry across the realm. 

The dead Gelfling heard it, and stopped in their wanderings through the Castle to listen. In the spectral throne room, the Skeksis heard it. In the dark and empty Crystal Chamber, the urRu heard it, and looked up from their meditation. 

Every corner of that empty place took notice as the music spread through it, until even the stones and the eternal fog seemed to listen.

But the song of sorrow was only the first part. 

Jen began to play a harmony on the double flute. Notes of new joy, closer to the familiar song of Thra, joined with the notes of alien yearning. It was this part that he had helped urSol compose, and the two melodies strengthened each other, just as his music had strengthened Kira’s voice that day by the Silver Sea. 

The two melodies blended into one, sorrow and joy and nostalgia and hope, all the stronger and more beautiful for the differing of the notes. And in every dead soul that listened, memories stirred to life. 

The Gelfling remembered Thra - all of the life and light that flourished beyond this gloomy realm. They thought of their own lives there, all that they had lost, and the final chance to become one with Thra that had been stolen from them. For the first time, all of them dared to hope they might not have to stay here forever, that the promise of new life might still be kept. 

Tolyn remembered a time when he had cherished the camaraderie of his fellow guards more than his loyalty to the Skeksis, and he began to let go of the dark guilt that had filled his heart since the moment of his death. Mira remembered the love she had shared with Rian - all the moments of happiness they’d known in the brief time they’d been together. He hadn’t been able to save her from death, but he’d turned his love for her into something powerful enough to change their world. And if he’d also found someone new to love in the course of things … well, then she was glad for him. 

UrVa remembered when he and skekMal had been young, in the early trine after the division. In those days before the Hunt had consumed his dark half’s mind, the two of them had been friends who explored the wilds of Thra together. And he remembered even further back, to when the two had been one, and had explored far more distant worlds in search of new life. 

Beneath the Teeth of Skreesh, skekSa and urSan remembered when they had studied distant oceans as one, seeking knowledge and adventure over the crest of each new wave. For the first time in trine, they looked up from the trickle of ghostly sewage. Their eyes met, and without words, they began to make their way into the Castle. 

Out on the barren ravine floor, and in the Crystal Chamber, skekYi and urYa and skekHak and urHom remembered a time when they had not been lost, savage creatures trapped in this dark place, but had dwelled in sunlight and led lives of sapience and purpose. The two Skeksis finally stopped their centuries of aimless wandering, and turned their path to the Castle, following the music. 

SkekLi and urLii remembered when their crafting of songs and tales had been a heartfelt passion, instead of a weapon to wound or a veil to conceal knowledge. When they had been respected, and had true friends, and not had to fear a wrong word would cost everything. 

SkekLach and urSen remembered when gathering the material treasures of the world had been a joy, instead of a tiresome chore or an attachment to be avoided. They remembered finding beauty in the things they cataloged (and in themselves), and happiness in sharing them with those who had true need. 

SkekVar and urMa remembered a time when they had sought to prevent war instead of welcoming it, and had protected those in need and brought them guidance. Peace without the strength to preserve it meant little, but they had been able to achieve both once, and been honored for it. 

SkekTek and urTih remembered the long-ago joy they had felt in seeking out knowledge from every corner of existence. Once, they had been able to turn their discoveries into true betterment for their world, without stealing life from the innocent or stagnating in the same old experiments. Their days had not been clouded by anger and pain, and they had embraced life with an open mind and heart. 

And skekSo and urSu remembered when they had not been Emperor, Master, or even Councilor, but had been a teacher, inspiring devotion through wisdom instead of fear. When his disciples had been his friends, ready to follow him across the void and beyond. When he had loved each of them, had wanted to inspire the best in them, and most of all, had wanted to keep them safe - even if it meant defying the most ancient laws of their kind. 

But skekSo had spent a thousand trine denying those memories, and he still resisted now. 

“Argh!” He rubbed his temple, as if feeling a headache coming, and banged his scepter on the stone floor. “I will not tolerate that infernal _noise_ in my castle!” He turned to skekVar. “General! Go find the Gelfling and silence him.” 

It took skekVar a moment to hear him, and when he did, he hesitated. But centuries of loyalty were stronger than a song, no matter how beautiful it might be. 

“As you command, Sire.”

The bulky Skeksis bowed, drew his sword, and headed for the entrance hall. As he neared the inner gate, however, he found his path blocked. 

SkekMal stood beside the gate, just out of sight of those outside. He wore an expression skekVar could not remember ever seeing on the feral Skeksis before, and it took him a moment to realize what it was. 

Peace. 

SkekVar hesitated again, but steeled himself. “Hunter, get out of my way.” 

SkekMal’s lip curled. “What for? I like where I am. Pass on through me, if you have to.” 

SkekVar gripped his sword tighter. His relationship with skekMal, one of the few of their kind who could outmatch him in a fight, had often been tense, and being spoken to this way rankled. “I said get out of my way! The Emperor wants the intruding Gelfling dealt with.”

“And just how do you think you’re gonna do that?” skekMal scoffed. “If you haven’t noticed, idiot, _we’re dead_.” 

A group of Gelfling had come near them, drawn by Jen’s song. SkekMal drew one of his curved knives and slashed it through the neck of the nearest Gelfling. 

She did not so much as blink as the blade passed through her harmlessly. The other Gelfling paid the Skeksis no heed either, except for one older male who gave him a brief, disdainful glance. 

“See? The Gelfling aren’t afraid of us anymore. We’re not their Lords here. I’m not a Hunter, you’re not a General, and _he’s,_ ” he gestured back toward the throne room, “no Emperor.” 

“You speak treason,” skekVar growled. 

“I speak _truth._ You just don’t want to hear it. Never was good at thinking for yourself, and you’re still scared to do it now.”

The taller Skeksis growled again. “You dare question-”

“Oh, shut up! Can’t you see none of it matters anymore? All of it, it’s _over._ No more Empire. No more _Hunt._ Nothing but this cursed place and a bunch of wretched ghosts for the rest of forever. That Gelfling might be the last living thing we ever see.”

“... He’s Rian’s, isn’t he?”

SkekMal chuckled. “You sensed it too. Figures his whelp would give our kind just as much trouble as he did.”

“So why not go after him? We can take him together.”

“You really are stupid,” skekMal snarled. “I can’t hunt something I can’t touch. And what good would taking his strength do? One Gelfling won’t make me alive again. Not even the one who healed the Crystal.” 

He looked out through the gate, to the place where Jen sat with urVa beside him. 

“Right now, I'd rather have that song more than any trophy. So shut your beak. I want to listen.” 

* * *

**_To Be Continued…_ **


	10. Chapter 10

The First Brother was just breaching the hills as Kira gathered with the others at the Castle’s entrance, ready to see them off. 

“Are you sure you can’t build it here?” she asked again. She gave a meaningful glance back through the gateway, to where they knew Jen still rested. 

Aughra shook her head. “Not high enough, and this,” she gestured to the crystalline building, “puts out too much light of its own. Too distracting.” 

{“And old pieces are there,”} Lenev added. {“More easy to shape old metal than to dig new metal.”}

Ydra approached the Gruenak, hauling a woven, bulging rucksack that was almost as big as she was. {“Here, Hup helped me pack this before he went to bed. He said you’re still learning what wild things are safe to eat, so this should keep you fed for a while.”}

Lenev shouldered the rucksack with a grateful smile. {“Thank you. If is good, we not be gone a long time.”}

Aughra nodded. “Not more than a few days. If fate is with us, Jen will wake up and have the answers we need long before then, and this will all be a waste of time. But until then, we have to seek our own answers. Can’t take any chances when whole worlds are at stake.” 

She looked up at ShodYod, OkAc, and EktUtt, who hovered nearby. The Designer had not been recruited to join this quest so much as he had invited himself along when he heard about it, and Aughra still had her doubts about including him. But someone who understood craftwork and aesthetics might prove useful, and regardless, they needed all the help they could get. 

“So let’s have off, then!” She moved to stand beside Lenev, while the three urSkeks moved into formation around them, each with a hand outstretched. “You’ll want to hold onto your hat, Gruenak.” 

Lenev started to ask why, but the word turned into a yelp of surprise as she found herself and Aughra levitated off the floor. She quickly grabbed her leather hood, holding it in place. 

“Do not worry,” OkAc said with a hint of a smile. “We shan’t drop you.”

“Come now, no more wasting time!” Aughra gestured down the living bridge. “I never did like it when you lot did this, and I’d sooner get it over with!”

Keeping Aughra and Lenev floating between them, the three urSkeks flew down the bridge and out toward the sunrise.

* * *

It felt unnatural, not having the touch of the planet beneath her feet. Even when Raunip and his long-ago Gelfling friends had learned to seek rides from landstriders, Aughra had preferred to walk where she needed to. Early on in her friendship with the urSkeks, MalVa had sometimes offered her a lift (as he called it) when they came across some particularly rough terrain in their travels through the wilds; she’d accepted, but had always felt relief when it was over. To move above the ground felt like neglecting her connection to Thra, and she’d already done enough of that. 

But she had little choice now. It would take days to reach the high hill by walking alone, and that was time that could not be spared. So she’d endure this indignity, and ignore her feelings about putting herself in the hands of the urSkeks (in a rather literal sense), for the sake of Thra. 

They flew across the Bah-Lem Valley, the breeze in their faces and the grass rippling beneath them. The urSkeks could not move as high or as fast as birds, especially not when carrying two beings with them, but they still passed over the ground swifter than Aughra and Lenev could ever have managed on foot. By the time the first sun was nearing its zenith, they’d reached the edge of the Endless Forest, and Lenev’s earlier fear had turned to fascination. 

She and Aughra did not speak as the urSkeks levitated them over the treetops. The wind was too loud in their ears, and an open mouth was an invitation to the startled summer insects that flew past them. But Aughra saw how the Gruenak watched with wide-eyed wonder, taking in the world from a vantage none of her kind ever had before. 

It had always been easy for Aughra to favor the Gelfling, whose dreamfasting let them keep a connection to Thra almost as strong as Aughra’s own. The Gruenaks, who recognized no higher authority and preferred to trust in their mechanical inventions, had seldom sought her counsel in the Ages past. 

But they were Thra’s children too. And in many ways, Aughra thought, she’d failed them worse than she had the Gelfling. 

Those thoughts did not leave her as they completed the journey over the Endless Forest, crossed the expanse of the Black River, and began the ascent into the mountains. 

* * *

Over the last seven trine, Aughra had made several journeys back to the ruins of her observatory. She’d salvaged what she could from the ashes and rubble, but could never bring herself to try and make the place liveable again. The Crystal, and the two young Gelfling, had needed her too much, and the high hill had been too full of memories, even if she’d had the power to rebuild it as it had been. 

As they approached now in the light of the sunset, it looked just as she’d seen it the last time: a dark crater on the crest of the hill. Old soot and dirt stained the broken edges that remained of the once-intricate dome. Inside, the rubble was filled with shards of blackened glass, and it took the urSkeks some moments to find a safe place to set them down. 

“Not pleasant to look at, is it?” she huffed when she saw how pale their coronas had turned. 

ShodYod, who had spent time in the observatory as both Arithmetician and Numerologist, was the most shaken. “... When you said it was burned, I still never imagined.”

“Hm? What _did_ you expect, then? Garthim didn’t care what this place meant. Tore down everything in their path, and left the fire to take the rest.”

She made her way to the center of the ruined chamber, kicking debris aside as she went. There, half-buried in the wreckage of the dome, was the mound of twisted, rusted, fire-scored metal that had once been her wondrous orrery. 

Lenev followed after her, looking thoughtful. She swept dirt away from an exposed section of the orrery’s wide, circular base, and banged her thick claws on the metal. A series of impressive _clangs!_ reverberated, and she nodded in approval before addressing the urSkeks. 

OkAc still remembered the Gruenak language, and translated for the other two. “She says it’s not so bad as it appears. The structure’s base is still mostly intact, so we need only rebuild the upper parts.” 

From his robes, the Chronicler produced a triangular crystal plate. He concentrated, and a pulse of light flowed from his aura and filled the clear plate. As he held it flat in the air, bringing it low enough for Aughra and Lenev to see clearly, it projected a small, faint image of the original orrery. 

“I apologize that the recording’s so crude,” he felt the need to add. “I had to craft all my own materials when we first arrived here.”

Lenev’s dark golden eyes gleamed with keen interest. In the grime on the floor, she began using her claws to sketch out the image OkAc showed. 

And, as he watched the outline laid out before him, ShodYod felt his doubts begin to ease. 

“... Yes, this may work.” He hovered closer, lending the glow of his form to illuminate Lenev’s work as the light faded. “If we adjust this largest arm by point-three degrees, it will account for galactic drift in the last thousand trine …”

* * *

As night fell and the stars appeared above them, the new orrery took shape. 

While OkAc cleared debris with sweeps of telekinetic energy, ShodYod and EktUtt worked together to levitate the damaged mechanical arms. Seven trine of exposure after the dome fell had left them rusted and ruined, so the urSkeks’ first task was to reshape their chemical structure. 

They moved their hands in winding patterns, and layers of corrosion melted away. Mist floated free as water and oxygen were separated, leaving the pure metals behind. 

With the raw materials restored, the three urSkeks began to sculpt the arms into place around the central mechanism, molding and blending metal as a potter would shape clay. EktUtt managed to craft a copper alloy that was a particularly striking hue, and his corona flickered with displeasure when he saw Lenev shake her head. 

“What’s the matter with it? This color calls to mind the Phoenix Nebula! And these ripples give the impression of thought and movement. This apparatus is as much about bringing the proper state of mind as it is showing the heavens in miniature.” His corona turned a shade darker. “What does a Gruenak know about _art?_ ”

Lenev glared at him. The Designer might not be able to understand her language, but _she_ could understand his projected thought-speech perfectly well. She turned to Aughra, and said something that made the ancient sage laugh. 

“She says ‘I know when an alloy is too soft to hold up under its own weight. If you try to make the main arm out of that, it’s going to bend after a few turns’.“

Lenev nodded, and mimed bending an object crooked with both hands. 

“Make the stuff stronger, Designer,” Aughra went on. “This orrery’s no good to us if it looks pretty but can’t function.” 

EktUtt’s corona turned hazy with sulkiness, but he did as she ordered. 

The new orrery would only have a few arms, to show the movements of Thra’s own solar system and the astral landmarks ShodYod had calculated would show the Devouring’s path across the galaxy. When the urSkeks had finished shaping each pin and cog, they began the final step of crafting miniature versions of the stars and planets. 

Lenev, who had no knowledge of such things and could not assist, turned to Aughra with a different question. 

“Water? Yes, there’s a spring runs down through the caves there.” She pointed to the broken portal that led down into the black depths under the hill. “Just follow where the moss grows. It was clear two trine ago, should still be good to drink.” 

Licking dry lips, Lenev pulled out her copper light-rod and cranked it to life. Aughra watched as the Gruenak climbed down into the darkness. The rod’s illumination grew fainter and fainter, until it vanished from sight. 

* * *

By the time Lenev returned, carrying water in a large, dented crucible she’d found, the moons had climbed high and EktUtt was adding the final touches of color to their miniature versions on the orrery. 

“Finally!” Aughra exclaimed. “Was starting to think you’d gotten lost down there.”

The Gruenak shook her head with a smile. She hadn’t been able to resist doing some exploring, she explained, and had been impressed by the elaborate network of caves under the hill. 

“Well, suppose I can’t blame you for that. Those caves used to be quite a sight. Aughra asked Thra to help shape them, in the long and ago of the world.” She huffed. “Glad there’s still someone to appreciate them.”

The two of them watched as the Designer blended burnt carbon into the model of the Hidden Moon, the dark particles melting into the silvery metal. Aughra couldn’t fault his work; the celestial models were even more vibrant and beautiful than the old ones had been. Perhaps letting him come along had been the right choice after all. 

“And … perfection!” EktUtt touched the model with a flourish of telekinesis, and the tiny moon began to spin. 

ShodYod pulsed his corona in agreement. “Now we need only wait for it to attune itself to the music of the universe.”

The five of them watched as the new orrery gleamed under the stars and moons. The model Hidden Moon slowed down, and for a long moment, the whole thing was perfectly still. 

Aughra frowned as Lenev whispered to her in a skeptical tone. “Yes, it _will_ move on its own. The energy of the spheres is its power source! Just be patient …”

Slowly, a faint hum began to vibrate through the orrery. It was barely more than a whisper, but each of them could feel it. 

OkAc’s corona brightened with delight. “It’s working!”

“It really is!” ShodYod’s corona brightened too. “We did it!”

Slowly, minute by minute, the new orrery stirred to life. The five watched, rapt, until a growl from Lenev’s stomach caught Aughra’s notice. 

“You ought to eat something,” she chided. “Going to be a little while before this thing’s in full motion. We can all afford a rest.”

Even when exhausted and hungry, it was hard for Lenev to take her attention away from the strange, wondrous machine. But she opened the rucksack, and beamed when she found a stack of the feast-of-summer bread she’d enjoyed so much at the party two nights ago. The Podling bakers had mixed a variety of seeds and berries into the dense golden-brown bread, and had decorated it with summer flowers whose nectar added further sweetness. 

She broke one flat, round loaf in two, and offered the other half to Aughra, who took it and began chewing noisily. As a living aspect of Thra itself, the planet’s energy sustained her and she did not need to eat, but she’d come to enjoy the taste of food over the millenia, and the extra energy would aid her in the voyage to come. 

After a moment’s thought, Lenev took out a second loaf, and looked up at the urSkeks with a questioning expression. 

OkAc realized what she was wondering. When the Twice-Nine had come to Thra the first time, the Thra-kind had asked the same question. “Yes, we can eat like you do.”

“But should we?” ShodYod asked his comrades. The sight of feast-of-summer bread brought back old, shameful memories of his dark shard’s dealings with the Spriton and their Podling neighbors. “We agreed we would take nothing from Thra that we did not absolutely need.”

EktUtt drifted over to the Gruenak. “Speaking for myself, _I_ need it. I’ve spent a great deal of energy today. I need to replenish myself, and I’m not waiting for the suns to rise. She’s offering it freely.” He gave Lenev a narrow look. “Are your hands clean?”

Lenev rolled her eyes, but held up her free hand to show she’d washed her claws as best she could. 

“Hm. I suppose that will have to do.”

She rankled at that, and for a moment, it looked like she might change her mind about sharing her food with the urSkeks. But her elders had raised her to always make sure everyone was fed who needed to be, and she offered the loaf again. 

EktUtt levitated it from her hand. Floating the loaf in the air before him, he divided it into three mathematically equal pieces without spilling so much as a crumb. OkAc and ShodYod each summoned a piece over to them (after some lingering hesitation on the Arithmetician’s part), and the three began to eat daintily, holding the bread between thumb and fingertip while they nibbled tiny bites with their pointed teeth. 

EktUtt couldn’t hold back a hum of pleasure as his corporeal form absorbed the sweet, hearty feast-of-summer, turning the material directly into energy. Since urSkeks did not need their mouths to speak, they saw nothing rude about talking while eating, and he kept on doing so. “I’ve missed how flavorful the food on Thra is. AyukAmaj was right, it’s a shame he couldn’t bring any ingredients home.”

“It _is_ quite nice.” ShodYod’s corona warmed. 

Lenev politely swallowed her own bite, and said something to OkAc. 

“Yes,” the Chronicler agreed, with an amused ripple of his corona, “I’m sure it’s much better than mushrooms.” 

While they ate, and shared the water Lenev had carried up, the orrery continued to pick up speed. At last, Aughra deemed that it was ready. 

The observing chair that had once been attached was long gone, so the urSkeks condensed a pile of dust and debris into a crude seat. The stone-like mound was far from comfortable, but as she climbed up, Aughra found herself too excited to care. As remorseful as she’d felt for neglecting Thra in her voyages across space, a small part of her had also missed the experience. She might be focused on a single mission now, but she was still wildly curious about what she might find. 

“I’ll try and return as quick as I can,” she told the others. “No wandering the heavens for centuries this time. If I don’t come back by nightfall tomorrow, you wake me up.” 

She settled into position. Above her, all the cosmos spread out in the clear night, and she reflected that she couldn’t have asked for better conditions. The high hill had always been a perfect place for stargazing, and with no dome between them anymore, it was easy to imagine herself walking into the sky. 

Slowly, as she concentrated, the hum that was the eternal music of the universe began to enter her mind. 

She closed her eye …

* * *

… And opened it again in the astral plane. 

The realm spread out around her, reaching forever in all directions. There was no true sense of dimension or distance; it was more like a dream than any tangible place she could see or touch. 

The harmony of the cosmos surrounded her (the _Uni-Verse_ , she remembered Raunip had sometimes called it), and she floated in it as if the music were an impossibly vast sea. Most of the song was deep and steady where it played across the emptiness of space, but Aughra could also hear the livelier islands that were faraway stars and planets. 

And she was part of the music too. She had no ungainly body to weigh her down here, no missing eye to limit her sight. It was as liberating as she remembered, but she still did not feel tempted to explore freely. She had a path ahead of her, and she must not stray. 

The orrery served two purposes in aiding her explorations. It helped tune her in to the Uni-Verse, and it helped her mind imagine those distant places she had not yet seen. Now, as she drifted in the astral dreamspace, she visualized the handful of models on the new orrery. 

The first one was a place she’d already visited once: Zo-Kanaph, a supergiant star visible during Thra’s summers. The gaseous planets that orbited it appeared lifeless at first glance (for what creatures could survive on a world whose atmosphere was one eternal storm?), but Aughra had seen on her last voyage that tiny beings, barely more than living motes of dust, lived in floating colonies in the skies of the smallest planet. 

Traveling in the astral realm wasn’t like flying with the urSkeks. One moment she pictured the image of Zo-Kanaph’s smallest planet, and the next she was _there._

Her projected self floated in a dense cloud of churning blue-green gas colder than the deepest winter on Thra. Flashes of lightning surrounded her, but neither lightning nor cold brought her any discomfort. Her physical body was safely back on Thra, and nothing here could touch her. 

_Seems more violent than I remembered,_ she thought as she watched the storm. _Is the star finally reaching the end of its life? What will become of the little ones when that happens?_

But she did not have time to dwell on that now. She turned her gaze skyward, to where the orange glow of the star just barely reached through the thick atmosphere, and pictured her next destination. 

From the stormy Zo-Kanaph solar system, to the sparkling ice of the Ydaj Comet, to the fiery clouds of the Phoenix Nebula she projected herself, following the path ShodYod had mapped across the galaxy. 

And at last, on the other side, beyond the light of the farthest star visible from Thra, she glimpsed what she was seeking. 

Aughra had seen black holes before. Even their unimaginable power could not harm her when she traveled this way, and she had approached a few during her centuries of exploring. They were intimidating, but still a part of the natural order, and worth gaining knowledge of. 

What she saw now was not a black hole. 

It resembled one a little: a darker void amid the darkness of space, that seemed to warp light and matter around its edges. But it was far too small, no larger than the planet of Thra (strange as it felt to think of Thra as small). And black holes did not perceptibly _move_ through space like a living thing with purpose. A black hole would not produce the discordant note in the Uni-Verse that Aughra could hear now. 

Discordant, but familiar. 

_I’ve heard a song like that before,_ Aughra thought as her astral self drew closer. _It almost sounds like …_

Sudden terror seized her. She saw the Devouring halt in its path, and realized, too late, that _it_ had seen _her._

Whatever the Devouring was, it had a mind. That mind, that _awareness,_ reached out to Aughra now. And, powerless, she reached back. 

Their minds locked. 

And Aughra understood. 

_Once, a new planet had been born from the dust of space. Like Thra, the urSkeks’ world, and many others across the universe, it had been blessed to hold a facet of the Crystal of Truth. Like all Crystal-bearing worlds, the young planet had formed a mind and spirit of its own, and as it had cooled from its molten stage, it had rejoiced in the thought of life taking shape upon it._

_But it was not to be. By pure misfortune, the young planet had formed too close to the massive, rending gravitational forces at the center of the galaxy. One by one, its three suns and three moons had been torn away, and the planet itself had broken apart before even the first spark of life could form._

_The planet, and its Crystal, had died. But its restless spirit had lingered, full of voiceless agony and despair at what it had lost._

_And from the darkness at the galaxy’s heart, that spirit had emerged as something never seen before._

_For Ages now, this ghostly entity had wandered across the galaxy. Cold and alone, eternally hungry, it sought out the warmth and light of Crystal-bearing star systems. Driven to absorb them, to_ **_devour_ ** _them, in the vain hope of filling its own unspeakable emptiness …_

Aughra understood all of this as she stared into the Devouring’s mind. And the undead planet gazed into _her_ mind in turn, one Crystal-bearing world to another, and learned of Thra. 

For a moment, Aughra could sense its indecision. Her world and its Crystal seemed a tempting morsel. 

But the Devouring released her. It had already chosen its next meal. 

The planet-sized void began to move again. Though it traveled in a straight line, Aughra could see now that it still spun faintly, the warping at its edges rippling in a ghostly echo of a rotating planet’s atmosphere. Ahead of it, off in the black distance, she could just barely make out the light of a three-star system. 

She knew which world that had to be. 

Aughra willed herself back to the astral dreamspace, beginning the journey of returning to her body. With her last glimpse, she saw that the Devouring was moving faster. 

* * *

Back on Thra, Aughra opened her eye to late afternoon sunlight. 

“She’s awake!” OkAc exclaimed beside her. At the sound of his voice, ShodYod and EktUtt quickly floated over, and Lenev, who had been sleeping nearby with the rucksack for a pillow, snapped awake as well. 

All the horror Aughra had felt when she learned the Devouring’s true nature now flooded into her physical body. She gasped, now that she had lungs to gasp with, and bolted upright so violently that she tumbled off the seat. 

ShodYod reached out, slowing her fall telekinetically. “What’s wrong? What did you see?” he asked, growing fearful himself. 

“How …” She panted, trying to calm down. “How long was I gone?”

“Less than a day,” the Chronicler reassured her. “If you’d slept any longer, we would have awakened you as you asked.”

Aughra continued catching her breath, leaning against the base of the orrery to steady herself. “... I saw it. The Devouring. And it saw _me._ ”

EktUtt’s corona flickered in puzzlement. “What do you mean by that?”

“It’s a world like Thra. Or used to be. A world that never had a chance to have a name.” She shuddered again. “Poor, wretched thing. But we have to stop it! It’ll never stop on its own. It’ll consume every Crystal in the universe, all for nothing.” She looked up at the urSkeks. “And it’s after _your_ world now.” 

ShodYod’s corona turned so pale it was nearly invisible. “How long do we have?”

“Perhaps a week. Perhaps less! Aughra doesn’t know how to measure these things.” She turned to Lenev. “Get ready, fast as you can! We’ve got to get back to the Castle. Not sure how we’re going to fight something that’s already dead, but we’ll have better luck finding answers there.” 

_Seems I was wrong,_ she thought to herself. _Perhaps the dead_ **_can_ ** _harm the living._

* * *

**_To Be Continued..._ **


	11. Chapter 11

The blended harmony of Thra and another world carried on, its warmth and energy filling the cold, death-still air of the shadowed realm. 

Jen did not know how long he had been playing. When one cycle of the song ended, he began another. It filled him with strength he’d never felt before, and he did not need to rest or pause for breath. GraGoh was right, the Gelfling reflected -- when you had no need to eat or sleep, why _not_ spend all your time making music? 

And, as he played, he began to think about urSu’s lesson many trine ago. If one could sometimes gain more wisdom by taking the less direct path, even if it took longer, perhaps that was his answer now. 

GraGoh had regained all of his urSkek memories when the dead halves of his soul joined again, including what he had known about the Devouring. SoSu was said to have had the most knowledge of all, but his halves did not want to be rejoined. 

But he was not the only one who might have knowledge that could be useful. From what Jen could understand, SoSu had shared pieces of what he knew with his followers. None alone might have the full story he needed, but perhaps, if he could gather enough different pieces ... 

He glanced at GraGoh and urVa, who lingered nearby as he played. The urSkek’s corona pulsed softly as he listened, while the Mystic wore a faint, sad smile, his eyes full of memory. 

He couldn’t leave them trapped in this empty place. They deserved the chance to move on to something more. But Jen also remembered Aughra saying that dead urRu and Skeksis could not return to Thra, since their souls had not come from it. If he did find some way to free them from this realm the Crystal had formed for them, what would become of them after that?

He lowered the firca from his lips. The music still hummed in the air, but it began to slowly fade, and he turned to GraGoh. 

“I must ask. What happens to your people when they die a natural death?”

GraGoh’s scattered corona flickered. “Our souls return to our world, just like Thra-kind’s return to Thra. The Crystal of Truth is the source of our life too, so it calls us back.” 

“But what if you die away from your world?” Jen knew he was bringing up a sensitive subject, but he had to know. “I promised the Mystics I’d help them find a way out of here too. I know you said I shouldn’t make that promise, but I _know_ there’s a way. And I want to help you too, GraGoh. If you left this place, could you still return to your world?”

“Possibly.” The dead urSkek’s corona brightened, the scattered motes dancing around him. “It’s rare for an urSkek to die at all. I can only recall a few times it’s happened since I was a neophyte. But we interstellar explorers did have a protocol in case such a thing happened. If one of our team happened to die on a mission, the survivors were to lend the deceased some of their own life energy, so their spirit could linger long enough for them to escort it back to the homeworld.” 

UrVa’s eyes widened. If he’d still had breath, it would have caught in his throat. “... Yes, I remember that. My self who was one saw it happen once. A friend was lost to a sudden wave of dark energy from a star, but we who still lived helped bring his soul home.” 

Jen looked between the two of them. “I’m sure UngIm and the others would do that for you, if you let them.”

For just a moment, GraGoh’s corona turned dark at the mention of the Physician’s name. “Maybe. He certainly owes it to me, after what he did. But I’m not ready to move on yet, Jen. There’s not much point in returning to a world that’s about to be devoured.” 

“That’s true. But when you _are_ ready, I hope you’ll still let me help you.” It felt good to say, but as Jen looked at urVa, uncertainty crept in again. “The other Mystics … could _they_ still return, even if their souls stay divided?”

“I do not know,” urVa replied simply. “I think such a division has never happened among our kind before. If it had, we would have known trying to purify ourselves was a mistake.” He looked out at the fog with a distant, thoughtful expression. “Maybe our divided souls would be strong enough to last the journey. Maybe they would not. But if you’re willing to open the way, then I’m willing to find out what lies beyond this realm.” 

“And what about me?!”

The three of them turned their heads, and watched as skekMal approached from across the entrance hall. 

“I heard what you were talking about. If you get out of this place, what happens to _me?_ If you don’t make it, and you disappear into nothing, am I gonna be gone too?”

There was real fear in the once-Hunter's voice. 

UrVa lowered his head. “I do not know.”

The Skeksis growled, fear turning to anger. “Don’t know why I’m surprised. You already killed me once. Why should you stop trying now?”

Jen’s eyes shot wide. _A Mystic killed his own Skeksis?_

“I do not want to destroy you,” urVa replied, his deep voice calm and steady. “Not anymore. I did what was needed then. The Hunt had to end, and no one else could have ended it.” Wryly, he added, “You might take some comfort in knowing that.” 

SkekMal growled again, but by the way he hesitated, it was clear the Mystic’s words had touched something inside him. 

Jen watched the two of them, still sitting. In the back of his mind, he had known this was a question that would have to be answered. He was willing to set the dead urRu free … but the Skeksis? 

He thought of his parents, and Mira, and all the other murdered Gelfling. He remembered the ruins he and Kira had visited over the trine -- an entire civilization destroyed forever. He thought of the enslaved Podlings, of the Gruenaks and the Arathim, of Thra poisoned and dying from the Darkening. 

If anyone deserved to be trapped in this place, he remembered thinking, the Skeksis did. 

But was it right for him to condemn them to that fate?

They were dead now, no more than ghosts. They no longer had the power to harm Thra, or any other world. If he _could_ set their souls free, could he live with himself if he chose not to? 

If he left them to linger here in the cold and dark, forever cut off from their world, doing the same to them as they had done to the drained Gelfling, could he ever be at peace with himself? 

“... You could go with him.”

SkekMal whirled on him, his green eyes piercing. “What did you say?”

“If I can free urVa,” said Jen, getting to his feet, “then I’ll free you too. If you want it.” 

The Skeksis hesitated again. It was clear he hadn’t expected Jen to make such an offer, and he seemed torn what to make of it now. 

“What makes you think you even can?” he demanded at last. “I thought I’d conquered death once, but it took me anyway.” He shot a glare at urVa. “How can a Gelfling defeat something even the Hunter couldn’t? Death took your father and grandfather too, and _they_ were great warriors. You’re not even that.” 

“I know I’m not.” Jen faced him. “That used to bother me, but not anymore. Warriors aren’t what Thra needs now. It needs people to heal it, and bring it peace. That, I can do. _That’s_ what I’m offering you.” 

SkekMal made a derisive sound. “You’re a naive little fool. But you have heart, I’ll give you that.” He looked the Gelfling over, weighing his words carefully. “Very well. _If_ you can get us out of here, then I’ll go too.” 

It wasn’t as good as hearing him say he’d join with his other half again. But it was still enough to give Jen hope. 

“I am glad of that,” urVa addressed his other half. “Whatever might wait for us beyond, I’d rather face it together.”

SkekMal was silent for a long moment. 

“... Are you serious? After everything?”

“I am.”

The Skeksis stared at him. “... I’ll admit, being stuck here with you hasn’t been as awful as I thought it would.” He looked as if he wished to say far more, but hesitated yet again, resisting those thoughts. “But none of this means anything if the Gelfling can’t make good on his word.” He turned back to Jen. “ _How_ are you gonna get us out of here, Gelfling?”

The once-Hunter wasn’t going to be satisfied with vague promises, Jen realized. He’d have to give him a real answer, if he wanted him to still follow. 

The long session with his firca had left his heart lighter, his head clearer. He remembered how he had told GraGoh that the dead urSkek’s song being able to carry through the Crystal was a sign that it _was_ possible to pass beyond this realm. 

Somehow, the Crystal must be the key. But it had taken GraGoh unum of practice to be able to reach them clearly. What was it that had finally let him succeed? 

“When you were singing out to Aughra,” he asked the urSkek, “ _where_ did you do it from?”

GraGoh pointed to the inner gateway skekMal had come through. “In the Crystal Chamber. When I started, I was singing to urSu and the others. After they didn’t listen, I decided it was worth trying to reach beyond.” 

Jen thought of the hollow place above the darkened shaft, where the Crystal ought to be. The Mystics, who spoke of keeping their dark halves imprisoned in this realm, had formed a circle around it. 

He remembered urVa’s words: _if you’re willing to open the way._

“I have an idea.”

* * *

They crossed the threshold back into the spectral Castle. When they did, skekVar was waiting for them. 

The armored Skeksis drew his sword, pointing the tip directly at Jen’s heart. “Stop where you are, Gelfling.” 

Jen did. The blade was as long as he was tall, and ghost or not, it still looked lethally sharp. 

“Now what are you doing that for?” skekMal snarled. He stepped forward, confronting the other Skeksis, while urVa moved protectively closer to Jen. “You got your wish. He’s not playing anymore.” 

“He could start again any moment.” SkekVar turned his amber glare on Jen. “I heard you in there. You’re plotting some trick.” 

Jen slowly turned his eyes up from the sword, and met skekVar’s gaze. “It’s no trick. I’m here to help.”

SkekVar didn’t answer for a moment. Jen saw uncertainty flicker across his face, before he gave a disbelieving snort. “There’s nothing to be helped. This is where we’re supposed to be. It’s what the Emperor wants.” 

Jen watched the Skeksis closely. He was trying to sound steadfast, but that uncertainty was still there behind his words. 

He’d managed to reach skekMal. Perhaps he could reach this Skeksis too. 

He had to try. 

“But is it what _you_ want?”

SkekVar gave a deep growl. He raised the sword, pointing from Jen’s heart to his throat. “How dare you question my loyalty!”

Jen kept his gaze steady. “I think that question was already inside you.” He remembered what urVa had said. “Why do you still have to do what skekSo says? He’s dead. _You’re_ dead. Nothing has to hold you to him anymore. You’re free to be yourself.” 

SkekVar’s shoulders tensed. The sword trembled faintly in his grip. “I should take your head for saying that.” 

Jen tilted his chin up. “Maybe. But I don’t think that’s what you really want either. It won’t bring you peace. And neither will serving skekSo. Or staying here.” He gave the once-General a small, friendly smile. “Come with us. If I can free the others, I can free you too.” 

SkekVar hesitated one last time. But then he growled again, fangs bared, and backed away. “Wretched Gelfling! You won’t trick me. I’m not listening to another word.” Sword still in hand, he turned and marched away, heading for the throne room. 

SkekMal made a sound of disgust. “Don’t waste your breath on him. That one’s never been brave enough to step out of the Emperor’s shadow.” 

He stood beside Jen, flanking him with urVa on the other side. With the two of them as his guards, Jen continued his way toward the Crystal Chamber. 

* * *

They walked through the Chamber’s archway: one Gelfling still glowing bright with life, a ghostly Skeksis and Mystic escorting him on either side, and the shade of an urSkek following close behind. 

This time, the seven gathered urRu all looked up as Jen and his comrades approached. Up on the balconies, a handful of the dead Gelfling had gathered, and they watched with wide eyes and whispers. 

UrSu tilted his head, unease written clearly on his wrinkled face. “Jen, what are you doing?”

“I’m doing just what you said, Master.” Jen lifted his firca. “I’m saving what can be saved.”

He brought the firca to his lips. The distortion in the air where the Crystal should be still hurt to look at, but he forced himself to keep his eyes on it. 

In his mind, he thought back to the night in Aughra’s observatory seven trine ago. He remembered the strange double note that had sounded when urSu first showed him the image of the shard in his scrying-bowl, and how, when he played that note, the true shard had glowed and sung back to him. 

He played that note now. With the music coming from his soul, and no need to pause for breath, it rang out clearer and steadier than it ever could in the living world. It filled the Chamber, and the Castle and ravine beyond. 

And, above the darkened shaft, the distortion began to glow. In the gloomy gray-violet of the dead realm, the clear white light of the Crystal of Truth reached through for the first time. 

But the light was faint, no brighter than the glow-moss Jen had seen in the Caves of Grot. He tried to play louder, putting all his heart into the notes, but he could not make it shine brighter. Like an ember that refused to grow into a flame, the distortion stayed faint, and grew dark once again as Jen stopped playing. 

He couldn’t bring himself to look at the ghosts. “I’m sorry. I thought it would work.” 

“Come now, there’s no need for that.” GraGoh drew closer. “It _almost_ worked. We all saw it! You have the right idea. All it needs is someone to help.” He nodded toward the distortion. “Try it again.”

Jen looked at the distortion. He played the double note again, and as it sounded, GraGoh added his voice to the music. 

Death had weakened the power of the urSkek’s voice, but it hadn’t destroyed it. The otherworldly song joined with the firca, echoing the double note, giving it new strength. The distortion glowed again, and this time it was brighter. 

_Yes!_ Jen thought as he watched. _It_ **_is_ ** _working! We just need more voices!_

He paused again, letting the glow fade, and turned to the watching Mystics. "Please, will any of you lend your voices? I've seen what you were capable of in life. I'm sure you could do this."

The other Mystics glanced at him, and at urSu and each other, slowly considering the idea. But before any of them could decide, the sound of footsteps carried from the archway that led to the throne room. 

SkekSo strode into the Chamber. SkekVar was by his side, and skekLi, skekLach, and skekTek followed close behind. 

“So,” he said to Jen, his harsh voice full of barely-restrained anger, “ _this_ is your new ploy. I should have expected. You couldn’t get the answers you wanted about the Star-Shadow, so as your revenge, you mean to lure my subjects to oblivion.”

Jen turned, facing the Skeksis. “That’s not what I want at all. I don’t know what waits for Skeksis beyond this place. But whatever it is, it has to be better than being trapped here with _you_ forever.” 

SkekSo hissed. “You have no idea what you’re speaking of. I brought Thra almost a thousand trine of prosperity before the Gelfling turned against us. I gave my people order, and purpose. I made us gods of our world. Could anyone else have done that?” 

He turned to the four Skeksis around him, daring one of them to answer and challenge his words. Not one did. 

Satisfied, he turned back to Jen. “So you see, I am Emperor because they _want_ me to be. Even now, they know that I am the only one who can lead them.”

He pointed a talon at skekMal. “You, Hunter. When you returned to us on the brink of death, I fought with all I had to save you. I sacrificed so much to bring you back. I ordered the death of Mother Aughra herself, and I would have killed a thousand more if I had to, because you are one of us! Does that mean so little to you? Are you going to turn your back on me -- on all Skeksis -- because of one Gelfling’s lies?”

SkekMal watched him, in a long silence. 

“... You say that you saved me. That’s funny. The way I remember it, _you_ thought I was dead, and you had me strung up and painted like some wretched ornament.” He snarled in disgust at the memory. “You didn’t save anyone. You’re the one who’s lying, and all of _you,"_ he waved his talons at the other Skeksis, “are too stupid to see it. You’re so used to following him and believing what he says, you’ve forgotten how to trust your own memories.”

He glared at skekSo defiantly. “Well, not me. My mind’s clearer than it’s ever been. I’m not the Hunter anymore. I’m more than that. And I remember it now.”

SkekMal looked past Jen, towards urVa. “If we _are_ going to face what’s beyond,” he said, “then I also want to face it together. _Really_ together.”

UrVa met his eyes. As the others watched, they slowly approached each other. 

“Then we will,” said the Mystic. “Whatever comes now, we choose to face it as one.”

“Forever.” For a moment, skekMal sounded afraid. “I don’t want to lose my memories.”

“You won’t.” UrVa’s voice was gentle. “And neither will I. We’ll always carry them inside us, the dark and the light.” He stretched out one hand. “This is only one dream ending.”

SkekMal reached for his hand. Instead of passing through it, the way his touch had through other ghosts, he clasped it firmly, half of one soul to the other. “Then let’s start a new one.”

The two embraced. 

As they held each other close, Jen saw a white-gold light begin to glow inside them. It started in their hearts, and grew until it filled their forms completely. The two figures grew taller, their shapes merging, until none could tell where one ended and another began …

The light dissipated. And, after more than a thousand trine, the urSkek who had been called MalVa stood before all. 

He hovered in silence, still adjusting as two minds became one. His white eyes glowed softly, and he stared down at his hands, and his restored form, in wonder. Like GraGoh, his corona was still clouded and scattered in death, but he was unmistakably MalVa, whole once again. 

“I’m … I’m here.” His thought-voice was deep like urVa’s, but with a hint of the roughness that had been in skekMal’s. “I’m _me._ And I do remember.”

GraGoh floated closer, his corona warm and a smile on his face. “I’d be tempted to say ‘I told you so’, but I’m just happy for you.”

MalVa’s corona brightened. He held out his hand, conjuring a small piece of his own aura, and GraGoh reached out and merged his own aura with it in an urSkek display of camraderie and affection. 

Jen watched them, rapt. He’d seen the still-living urSkeks restored to themselves, but he’d been so filled with grief for Kira, he hadn’t been able to appreciate it. Now he could see how beautiful the sight was -- and all the more so because both had been willing. 

The Skeksis and Mystics watched too, silent and transfixed. But skekSo was the first to snap out of it, and he stared at MalVa in what looked like genuine hurt. “... What have you done?” 

As was skekSo’s wont, anger quickly rose as a shield against fear. He rounded on GraGoh, brandishing his scepter. “ _YOU!_ This is all _your_ fault, Heretic! You and those filthy Gelfling you lured to your cause! It wasn’t enough that you told them our secrets, or that you gave them the Dual Glaive! You had to lure one here to destroy us even in death!”

MalVa’s corona flickered. “I don’t feel so destroyed.”

“Be silent, traitor! If you want to leave so badly, then go. Consign yourself to the void. I banish you from my realm, and your name will never be spoken again. But I will not let you or that Gelfling bewitch any more of my subjects.” He turned to skekVar. “I told you to silence the Gelfling once already, General, and you failed me. Go now and finish the job. You’re no substitute for the Hunter, but perhaps you can still be good for something.”

SkekVar started to reach for his sword. But he stopped. 

“What are you waiting for?” skekSo demanded. “The Gelfling is right in front of you. He carries no weapon. Kill him.”

“... No.”

SkekSo blinked. “What did you say?”

“I said _no._ ” SkekVar drew himself up, and stepped away from the once-Emperor. “There was a time when I would have done anything you said. I would have followed you to the ends of the universe if you asked me. I remember the kind of leader you used to be. But you’re _not_ that leader anymore. And if everything I’ve done for you really means so little … then no more.”

He turned from skekSo, and looked at Jen and the two urSkeks. “Because I remember who _I_ used to be too. There was suffering then, and sorrow, but there was also hope and happiness. I want to be that person again. _That_ might still be worth something.” 

The once-General approached an urRu -- the large one with a wilted flower still tucked into his elaborate hood. He took off his helmet, and cast it down. The ghostly shape faded into nothing before it even reached the floor, and skekVar offered his hand to urMa. “Will you join me? I want to leave this place, but I don’t want to go without you.”

UrMa looked at him silently, dark eyes meeting amber ones. The weight of an Age of divided paths passed between them; one who had sown conflicts across the world, and one who had struggled to end them. The once-Peacemaker turned and glanced at urSu one last time … and removed his hood, stepped out of the circle, and took skekVar’s hand. 

“And I don’t want to remain here without you. I believed keeping vigil here might finally bring peace to my own heart, but it hasn’t. Nothing has, not truly, since we split apart. If you’re willing to turn aside from the past, then I’m willing to move on with you.”

They threw their arms around each other. White-gold light grew from their hearts, and two more who had been sundered became one. A moment later, the urSkek VarMa was there, whole and restored. 

Jen’s heart soared. One urSkek voice might not be enough to open the way back to Thra, but three was a number of power. “Please,” he asked, lifting the firca, “sing with me. I’m sure it’ll be enough now.”

“Don’t listen to him!” skekSo shouted. 

A change had come over him at the sight of VarMa’s transformation. He was still richly robed, but the fabrics were duller, the gold and silver threads and ornaments tarnished. His hair and feathers had thinned, and lines of age spread across his face. 

“Can’t you see? He means to undo all we’ve worked for! This Castle is _ours._ This is our empire, the Gelfling our subjects. _No one_ is going to take that from us!”

“We’re _not_ your subjects.”

More Gelfling had gathered, drawn by the music and commotion. Dozens of them now clustered along the balconies and in the archways. At the head of one group, Jen could see Mira standing firm, addressing the Skeksis without a trace of fear. “You have no power over us anymore. You took our essence, and our lives, but we still have our voices. You can’t make us be silent, and you can’t keep us here.” She took a step forward, towards Jen. “We’ll join your song. Maybe we’re not as powerful as them,” she glanced at the urSkeks, “but there are hundreds of us. That has to make a difference.”

Jen smiled, and began to play again. GraGoh echoed the double note, and as MalVa and VarMa began to sing too, the distortion glowed brighter yet. Mira added her voice, clear and sweet, and Jen could hear the other Gelfling join in. The Crystal Chamber echoed with the notes, calling out to the living Crystal of Truth on the other side of death. 

And it _was_ working. Jen saw the distortion begin to change shape, stretching into an outline that mirrored the true Crystal. Just as he’d hoped, it was a gateway, and the music would unlock it. 

But the outline was still hazy. The voices, even so many, were not enough. The way was still shut. 

Jen lowered the firca, trying not to let his distress show. “We can still do it. But we need more to join in.” He looked back and forth at the Skeksis and Mystics who remained. “Surely, one of you … ?”

“We’ll join you.” A deep, velvety voice reached his ears. The Gelfling who had gathered in the passage that led to the catacombs parted, and skekSa and urSan walked through them side by side. They looked as old and worn as when Jen had seen them before, but the Skeksis carried herself with confidence, and there was a smile on the urRu’s face. 

“You’ve accomplished something I thought no one ever could,” said urSan. “You’re a remarkable Gelfling, and I wish I’d had the chance to know you in life. If it’s our help you need, then you have it.”

SkekSa nodded in agreement, and turned to the urRu. “It’s worth a try. But if this _is_ our one chance to get out of here, then let’s do it right. Whatever adventure comes next, we’ll be stronger if we weather it together.” 

UrSan offered her hand. “Yes. We cannot undo what’s past, but we still have time to make a sea-change. I’ll show courage if you will.” 

SkekSa gave a wry smile at her choice of words, and took her hand. “All right then. To the unknown horizon.”

“And to that which lies beyond.”

The two embraced, and a moment later, SaSan took form. 

“Perhaps we might join you too,” the ragged, moss-covered Mystic spoke up. He stepped away from urSu and the others, his eyes focused on a Skeksis across the Chamber. “UrLii remembers when our voice was among the greatest of our kind. Our words could change worlds. If we had our true voice again, surely the way could be opened.”

SkekLi watched him as he spoke. A storm of emotions played across his narrow face: fear and anger and regret, but last of all, hope. He started to approach the Mystic, but skekSo blocked his path with his scepter. 

“Not another step, Satirist. You’ve come so far in your time here! You’ve finally proven yourself a worthy Skeksis, and earned a high place in my court. Don’t cast that aside now!”

SkekLi looked down at the scepter, and then at the Skeksis holding it. His lips curled in disgust. “SkekSo, I’m going to tell you something I ought to have told you hundreds of trine ago: _go lick a scummuncher._ ”

He made a vulgar gesture at the once-Emperor, and stepped through the scepter without a hint of resistance.

The once-Satirist and once-Storyteller met halfway across the Chamber. They embraced, and LiLii was one again. 

SkekSo stared at him, eyes wide and fangs bared, too furious to speak or move. Before he could find a new target for his wrath, the sound of hissing, animalistic voices entered the Chamber, and he looked up sharply. 

SkekHak and skekYi approached, whispering to each other in the primal Skeksis language Jen could not understand. Not that he needed to understand it now; their subdued steps and wondering, almost-fearful expressions, so different from when they’d pursued him earlier, said all. 

SkekHak cautiously approached the two young-looking urRu. They backed away abruptly, with soft bleats of fear. The paler of the two stepped back so far that her foot went into the open shaft beneath the distortion, and she gasped and flailed in terror, desperately trying not to fall into the darkness --

The auburn Skeksis reached out, trying to catch her. His hand passed through the urRu, just as it had through GraGoh’s robes, but the gesture was enough to make the two urRu realize he had not come to do harm. The one who had nearly fallen calmed, regaining her footing, while the other looked at the Skeksis with a new, questioning expression. 

To Jen’s amazement, the feral Skeksis bowed his head low before the second urRu. He held out one hand, palm up, in supplication. It was a plainer apology and plea for forgiveness than any words could have conveyed. 

UrHom stared at him, still uncertain … and laid his hand over the Skeksis’s. Gently, they wrapped their arms around each other. Auburn feathers and russet hair melded into white-gold light, and HakHom was restored. A moment later, the white Skeksis and the pale urRu also joined hands, and YiYa rejoined them. 

SkekSo looked back and forth across the chamber, from shade to shade, seething as he watched those he had believed he still ruled slipping from his grasp. His appearance changed once again, morphing before Jen’s eyes. He was much older now, his skin pale and withered, with a tight-fitting black cowl covering his head where the last of his feathers had fallen out. He now wore an intricate metal cover over his beak -- armor, decoration, or something else, the Gelfling did not know. 

He turned his icy eyes on Jen, and his voice grew dangerously calm. “I should have expected. Of all the Gelfling to survive and torment me, it would be _that_ one’s offspring. Do you know what legacy you come from, Gelfling?”

A spark of real anger flared inside Jen. He faced the Skeksis, and his voice snapped as he spoke. “My name is _Jen._ And I do know. I’m the son of Rian. You’re hardly the first to notice it.” 

SkekSo gave a cold chuckle. “I wasn’t thinking of Rian at all. You may have his features, but I can see more than that. You’re _her_ son. The Grottan witch who stole the Darkening. What was her name … oh yes,” his mouth twisted as if the name were something foul, “ _Deet._ ” 

The name echoed in Jen’s mind. He thought back to Hup’s stories about the gentle Grottan girl who had been his friend. Yes, he remembered now, the Podling _had_ mentioned that Rian and Deet were lovers. And they’d had a child, who Deet had left in Hup’s care when she and the other Gelfling left on some final mission against the Skeksis -- one they’d never returned from. 

Jen had tried to remember his parents many times over the trine, but the only memory he could be certain of was his mother as a shadow over his small form; a feeling more than a true image. But there _had_ been other memories, half-glimpsed in dreams, and one of them came to him now: dark eyes, gentle green-skinned hands, and a flash of violet light that had frightened him. He’d tried to tell himself in the past that it was just a dream, blurred together from the other traumas of his early childhood, but what if it _was_ real? 

“... You knew my mother?”

SkekSo realized he’d found a weak spot, and he grinned. “I did. She was a mad, blighted creature who took hold of a power she could neither control nor understand. ‘Gentle’ Deet, they called her, but she was a murderer.” SkekLach stood by his left side, and he gave her a meaningful look. “I know _you_ won’t be foolish enough to follow this one, Collector. Perhaps he truly doesn’t mean harm, but he’ll destroy you as surely as his mother did.” 

“You mean he’s that little green beast’s brat?” SkekLach stared at Jen as if he were a venomous insect and she wasn’t sure if she should squash him or flee in fear. 

“Precisely. And she wasn’t satisfied with murdering you.” SkekSo turned to Jen again. “She led her friends to the Castle, right to the heart of the Darkening. They thought they could defy their own prophecy and heal the Crystal themselves.” He laughed darkly. “They were wrong. And when they realized they couldn’t escape, Deet showed her true nature. She unleashed the Darkening through the whole valley. She took her own life, and Rian’s, and all the Gelfling with them.” 

Jen choked, feeling sick. Had _that_ been what happened to his parents? He remembered the sight of the dying Bah-Lem Valley -- had his own mother been responsible for that? 

“It was me she meant to kill, of course,” skekSo gloated. “But she failed even that. When the Darkening subsided, she and her Gelfling friends were dead, and I still lived. A pathetic life that ended in vain. Just as yours will when the Star-Shadow comes for Thra.” 

Jen suddenly realized that he hadn’t thought of the Devouring in some time. The struggle to open the way to the living world, and the wonder of seeing the Skeksis and Mystics rejoined, had consumed his thoughts. 

But now he thought of Kira, and their child, and fierce, protective love welled inside him. He thought of Kira waiting for him, depending on him to find a way to save them all. He thought of how, on that fateful day, he had been ready to let the Skeksis take the shard if it meant sparing her life, but how she had tossed him the shard instead, sacrificing herself so that he could heal the Crystal. 

So many people had sacrificed their lives for him: Kira, and urSu, and now he could count Deet and Rian. Perhaps Deet hadn’t managed to kill skekSo, but he remembered what urSu had said: _he had been weakened._

And if she _had_ meant to take her own life, and those of her friends … if the alternative would have been falling into the Skeksis’ claws, and facing an even worse death in the draining-chairs, was it really wrong for her to have made the choice she did? 

“If she died in vain,” Jen slowly spoke, “then why is Thra still living? She fought so her world could have a future. They all did. And now all of Thra heals and grows, and your empire is _dead._ I was able to heal the Crystal because of all those who resisted you before me. I won’t fail them by letting the Star-Shadow destroy our world.” 

SkekSo growled low in his throat. “Pretty, empty words. I’ll ask you again: why should any of us care to save a world that wanted us gone?”

“Because even in death, you’re still part of that world. This realm,” Jen looked at the Chamber around them, “it’s still connected to the Crystal. Outside of Thra, but still part of it. If something destroys the Crystal, how do you know it won’t take you as well? Do you really want to wait here in the dark until you find out?”

Only three urRu still remained by the distortion: urSu, urTih, and the green-clad one who Jen had never known in life. As Jen spoke, it was that one who listened. 

“... He is right.” UrSen’s voice was whisper-soft. “Centuries ago, I received a glimpse of the death that awaited me. I accepted it then. I cloistered myself from my brothers, and from the rest of Thra, so that my loss would not pain them so much when it came.” 

He shook his head gently, the flaps of his linen cap swaying. “But I have received no vision of what comes after _this._ Perhaps that means oblivion is our fate … or perhaps it means the future is still unwritten.” He looked at urSu. “I am choosing to believe the second. And if the first proves true in the end, then I go to my fate knowing that this time, I acted.” 

Slowly, the once-Monk crossed the Chamber. He looked up at skekLach with gentle eyes. “I will not ask you to join with me. Whatever you choose, it will be your choice alone. But know that, despite all that’s passed, I would welcome you.” 

SkekLach stared at him, her beak open. She turned her gaze to the urSkeks, and then to skekSo and skekTek, weighing the choice of one eternity against another. Out of habit, she reached up and scratched at a pustule -- her talons came away slimy with pus, and she stared at the mess for a long moment. 

Finally, she shrugged. “Why not? It can’t be any worse than this.” 

Before skekSo could move to stop her, the once-Collector crossed the floor to her urRu. She started to reach for urSen, paused, wiped her talons clean on her robes, and then took his hand. 

The two embraced, and LachSen came to be again. 

Only two Skeksis remained now, skekSo and skekTek. The once-Scientist looked as if he were about to say something to Jen, but his mechanical eye swiveled up and around. He saw the dozens of Gelfling looking down at him, and saw that all their faces were full of hate and revulsion. 

He hung his head. “Don’t bother, Gelfling. I will remain here. This plane of existence is ineluctable. And it’s what I deserve.” 

Jen searched for words to object, but could find none. All the Skeksis had played a part in the death of the Gelfling and the ruin of Thra, but it had been the Scientist who was personally responsible for draining them. For all the lost souls here, skekTek had been the last living face they saw, when he strapped them to the chairs and turned the corrupted power of the dark Crystal on them. Jen remembered how he had appeared in Kira’s memory -- gleeful and remorseless at the thought of what his unholy invention would do to her. 

SkekSo drew closer to skekTek. When he spoke, he sounded disturbingly gentle. “Yes, you do. But it won’t be such a punishment. _You,_ dear Scientist, have proven yourself the most loyal of all my subjects. I will never forget that. I did not appreciate you in life as I should have, but I will now. You will be the Emperor’s favorite, forever. Yours will be the highest honors, second only to mine …”

Jen watched the two as skekSo went on. If skekTek was listening to his promises, he gave no sign of it. His eyes, real and mechanical, stayed cast down, avoiding both skekSo’s gaze and those of the dead Gelfling. 

Oh, Jen thought again, he hadn’t come here for this. He didn’t like the thought of leaving anyone trapped in this cold, dark realm, but if skekTek truly believed he deserved to be here, could Jen honestly tell him otherwise?

He looked at the gathered urSkeks. Surely, between the eight of them, they would have enough knowledge to stop the Devouring _and_ enough power to open the way out of here? 

He stared up at them, silently asking that very question, but none answered. 

His silence hadn’t gone unnoticed by skekSo. “You see?” he purred to skekTek. “Even _he_ does not want you to follow him. The Gelfling will never forgive what you’ve done. Neither will Aughra, or anyone else on Thra. The only place you have left is by my side. I am the only one who still cares for you.” 

… Jen saw urTih slowly step forward. 

“He does not speak the whole truth.” The once-Alchemist’s voice was soft and slightly nasal, just as Jen remembered in life. His wooden leg slowed him, but nonetheless, he kept moving forward. “There is another who cares for you. One who has also suffered by your hand, many times. They know all that you have done, even before the beginning, but they still would choose eternity with you.”

The Mystic tilted his right shoulder up. The sleeve of his front arm lifted, showing the jointed wooden hand urIm and urNol had helped craft for him. 

SkekTek stared at it, and then down at his own right hand, where wires and tubes connected the amputated limb to a cybernetic arm. 

“Even in life, I would have joined with you,” said urTih. “We may have lost that chance, but it is not too late for us to be together now.” 

SkekTek still hesitated, fearful. He looked up at the dead Gelfling, at the hundreds of eyes still watching his soul. “... And what happens after that? I used to believe there was _nothing_ after death. Now that I've been proven wrong, how do I know there isn’t some even more excruciating torment waiting for me outside this place?”

“You do not.” UrTih kept approaching. “And neither do I. Some things even our experiments cannot discover. I cannot promise you life, or redemption. All I can promise you is one soul’s forgiveness.” The Mystic gave a small smile. “Is that enough reason to have hope?”

“Enough!” SkekSo lunged forward, his scepter at the ready. “You will be silent, Mystic!”

He swung the scepter directly at urTih’s face. It passed through him harmlessly, right at the level of his eyes, but the sight of skekSo attacking the urRu brought out something in skekTek. He stared at the once-Emperor in dawning realization, weighing skekSo’s promises against his own memories …

He stepped between skekSo and urTih. “No! You will never harm _either_ of us again! You _cannot._ And I don’t care about winning your favor anymore. Your power is nonexistent, and your promises mean nothing!” 

SkekTek offered his left hand -- the one that had still been complete flesh in life -- to urTih, who took it gladly. They embraced, hugging each other close, and Jen saw a hint of mirrored tears in each left eye. 

“If no one truly knows what comes after,” skekTek whispered, “then let’s go discover it for ourselves.” 

UrTih nodded against his shoulder. “Together.” 

The white-gold light spread through them, and TekTih was restored. 

For a moment, skekSo could only gape as the realization that he had lost his last follower slowly sunk in. He stared in silence as TekTih floated over to join the other urSkeks, who welcomed him with gentle pulses of their auras. He could not touch them -- he knew that. 

But Jen was still in front of him. 

SkekSo let out a savage, bestial yell of rage. He advanced on the Gelfling, fearsome teeth bared. “ _You_ … you cursed, treacherous Gelfling. You may have stolen my world, my Crystal, and my subjects, but I will not let you leave this realm alive!”

Something in his voice gave Jen pause. He still remembered Aughra’s claim that the dead could not harm the living. The dead could not harm each other, he had seen that for himself, but was she so sure about the rest?

Nonetheless, Jen stood his ground. “It’s not too late. You can still leave with the rest of us. You could be whole again --”

“ _NEVER!_ ”

SkekSo swung the scepter with all his might. On pure instinct, Jen raised both hands to block it. 

If they had both been in their flesh and blood bodies, it would have been over in an instant. SkekSo was unquestionably stronger, and his strength was further fueled by his wrath. The blow would have smashed through Jen’s hands and shattered his skull -- perhaps taken his head off completely. 

But they were not in their bodies now. They were matched, spirit to spirit, and only one’s soul was complete. 

Jen caught the weighted, claw-like head of the scepter. SkekSo staggered as the much-smaller Gelfling unexpectedly stopped his blow mid-swing. He snarled, his whole body straining as he still tried to strike, but Jen held on with both hands and all his spirit. 

Gelfling and Skeksis struggled, neither one gaining or giving way. They locked eyes, warm dark blue to pale icy blue. 

“ _You don’t … have to … fight anymore!_ ” the desperate Jen managed to say. “ _It’s_ … **_over!_ **”

As Jen held on, he could feel something beginning to hum inside him -- a song and power that were not entirely his own. It made him think of the energy that had flowed into the Crystal at the moment of the Great Conjunction, only now _he_ was the conduit for that energy. 

A spark of light grew inside him, white and blue and rose and gold. The light traveled from his heart, up through his arms, into his hands, and into the scepter. It spread through the spectral metal in glowing, humming veins, making it tremble in skekSo’s grasp …

The scepter shattered. As the pieces flew in all directions, they vanished like the ghosts they were. 

SkekSo staggered back in uncomprehending shock. Before he could even think of attacking Jen again, a long, wrinkled hand reached out and caught his wrist. 

All this time, urSu had remained silent and passive, neither objecting nor rejoicing as the other urRu rejoined their dark halves. In his struggle with skekSo, Jen had not even noticed when his old Master stepped forward. But he was there at skekSo’s side now, and his grip was firm. 

“Jen is right. It _is_ over. You may resist even now, but you know it, just as I do.” UrSu narrowed his eyes in a disapproving way that Jen remembered from his childhood. “Once, I thought I would rather face oblivion than join with you again. Part of me still does dread the thought. But neither of us will have peace until we do. I swore to keep my dark half imprisoned. And if the best way to do that is inside my own heart … then so be it.” 

He released skekSo’s wrist. “But I cannot force you to make the choice. So I ask you: join with me. We will not be exactly as we were, but we will still have our memories, and the chance for something more.” 

For an instant, skekSo looked like he might consider it. But he snarled wordlessly at urSu and backed away, retreating to the archway that led to the throne room. 

UrSu shook his head sadly. “So be it. Your choice is your own to make, just as mine is my own.” He turned his dark eyes on Jen. “And I choose to go with you.”

SkekSo heard him. “What?”

Jen was startled too. “Master?” 

UrSu smiled wryly. “I know now that you will not rest if you must leave me here. So I will go with you, to whatever lies beyond.” His smile grew more loving. “I do not want you to be troubled. I was prepared to face an eternity of division in this place. An eternity of division beyond here, where I know that you are safe and happy, can only be an improvement.” 

He narrowed his eyes at skekSo again. “But you, my dark half. Are _you_ prepared to face eternity sundered in this realm? Knowing that the universe will move on, until all have forgotten you? No one left here with you, not even to hate? You spent an Age fearing death above all things. But now I think you will discover there is something worse than death: to be _alone,_ with only your own dark thoughts, forever.” 

The last Mystic turned his back on skekSo. “Play your music,” he said to Jen. “I will lend my voice.” 

Jen desperately wished again that he could hug his old Master’s shade. This wasn’t precisely what he had hoped for when he came to this realm, but he was not going to object. Together, even incomplete, surely they could find how to stop the Devouring! 

He raised his firca. 

“... Wait.”

The voice was weak and reedy, a striking change from the deep, commanding tone skekSo had used until now. When Jen looked across the Chamber at him, he saw that his shade’s appearance had changed again, one last time. 

The last Skeksis was crouched weakly on all fours in the dark archway, as if he no longer had the strength to stand. His robes hung in dusty, faded rags, and his cowl and headdress were gone, his bare head pale and skull-like. Most of his teeth were gone. The metal beak cover had vanished, and Jen couldn’t help grimacing at the sight of the gaping, rotted hole in skekSo’s snout. _No wonder he wore that thing._

“... Please …” It was a visible struggle for him to speak. The Darkening that had rotted his beak must have damaged his lungs and vocal structure as well, and it didn’t help that he barely knew what he was asking for. “Please … don’t leave me. I … don’t want to … be alone.” 

He stretched out a skeletal hand. 

Jen watched the wretched, pleading skekSo. The once-Emperor was a pitiful sight now, and part of him resented that the sight reminded him, just a little, of how urSu had reached out for him on his deathbed. 

Whether Jen liked it or not, skekSo was the other half of his beloved Master. Divided, that dark half had become a monster. But perhaps, if light and dark were balanced again, that darkness could still be channeled into something good. 

UrSu crossed the Chamber, and took skekSo’s hand. Gently, he helped him to his feet. 

“Are you sure?” the Mystic whispered. 

The Skeksis found the strength to put his arms around him. “I am.” 

For a moment, it seemed nothing happened. 

Then slowly, white-gold light spread from their hearts. Two souls who had resisted for so long at last joined as one. 

The light faded, and SoSu stood before all. 

* * *

**_To Be Continued..._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! Now that it's no longer a spoiler, I can tell readers that this chapter is the core idea of the story that was developed by my friend Kooshmeister, who gave permission for me to turn it into a fic. He conceived of it as "an afterlife intervention for skekSo", and a number of details (GraGoh already being reunified in the afterlife, skekMal and urVa being the first to reunify "onscreen", skekVar turning from skekSo after he finally realizes So doesn't appreciate him, and some of urSu's dialogue toward his dark half) were his ideas completely. I do take credit for coming up with the Devouring, and everything involving Jen, Kira, their Thra-kind friends, and the urSkek homeworld (which we're not done with yet!), but those came later -- the basic story wouldn't exist without Kooshmeister, and I can't thank him enough for it, or for letting me make use of it.
> 
> ALSO: You may have noticed urMa's pronouns and description changed a bit between here and chapter 7. There are some things I don't like about The Dark Crystal Bestiary (no, I do *not* buy that skekGra put the spike in his own head), and I would have preferred more she/her urRu in general, but this is one detail I'm willing to go back and edit into my fanwork.


	12. Chapter 12

Memories that had been fractured for more than a thousand trine came together again. 

_A nameless urSkek neonate felt life well inside it for the first time. It dwelled in a place of warmth and darkness, well fed and never alone. It knew no fear, but it knew nothing else, either ..._

_The neonate became aware of light, and cold, and other new sensations. It became aware of its fellow neonates around it, and of the tall, shining ones who cared for them ..._

_The neonate felt a change coming over it. The shining ones took it away from the others, and lulled it into a death-like slumber where it knew nothing but its own dreams. Only in that state could it survive the metamorphosis it would have to go through before it could become one of them …_

_The dreams ended, and an urSkek neophyte awakened, body transformed and mind_ **_aware_ ** _in ways it had not been before. He knew himself, and he knew his name: SoSu._

_Elder urSkeks guided the young SoSu as he learned their world and their ways. He proved a brilliant, eager student, hungry for knowledge of all things, and that eagerness worried his elders. UrSkeks were not meant to chase so many different trails. Each was meant to have one place where they belonged, where their talents might best be put to use for the good of all -- the Council had always said so. If SoSu could not find his place, he would leave his heart vulnerable to darkness._

_But there was one place where such a variety of knowledge could be useful. In time, SoSu the neophyte became SoSu the Teacher._

_He took newly-awakened neophytes under his care, guiding them to find their own strengths and explore what brought each of them happiness in life. He shared in each one’s happiness, and for a long time, his role brought him joy._

_But as Ages passed, SoSu began to grow discontented. He saw his students, all so eager for knowledge at the moment of awakening, have that eagerness drained away as they stagnated in the roles where the Council had deemed they would be most useful. Even more distressing, he found himself with fewer and fewer new students over time; since urSkeks almost never died, the Council had forbidden any more neonates from being conceived unless absolutely necessary._

_SoSu missed the delight of sharing the universe’s wonders with fledgling minds -- and in the darker half of his nature, he also missed the adulation his students had given him. And it was the loss of both that set him on a new path, determined to bring change to their world._

_With no neophytes brought to him anymore (the few new urSkeks that were still being born were always bred for some predetermined role, and sent to be trained for that role as soon as they awakened), SoSu began taking older urSkeks as his students. He had long seen that not all were content with their places in life, or with the rules and traditions the Council said they must follow. There were many willing to listen to his idea that each individual should follow the path that brought them happiness -- that doing so was_ **_not_ ** _selfish, and_ **_not_ ** _tantamount to heresy. If everyone was truly happy with what they chose to do for their society, surely it could only make things better for all?_

_The Council knew, of course. Secrecy was not the urSkek way -- not in that Age, not yet -- and SoSu was not the first who had questioned their ways. They saw his sincere wish to help his people, and how easily his voice and charisma won him followers, and wondered how they might make use of him. When ZedGeb the Senior Councillor chose to step down, with SharSet taking his place and leaving an empty spot among the Grand Nine, they believed they had their answer._

_They made the invitation, and SoSu the Teacher became SoSu the Councillor._

_His was one of the highest ranks in their society. At last, he had the authority to dictate their people’s future. Any other urSkek would have been satisfied with that, but SoSu was still discontented._

_He chafed when the other Councillors refused his ideas, and in turn, he challenged their refusal to change. Each time, SharSet warned him that deviance would only bring tragedy. The urSkeks, she said, had existed as a race long enough for them to always know what was best -- if all followed the same road, no one would be lost._

_So he turned to secrecy, and SoSu the Councillor became, at the same time, SoSu the Neoteric._

_By now, he had gathered a handful of favored disciples from among his followers, and they continued to gather in secret. Sixteen urSkeks, all from different walks of life, would listen devotedly as SoSu preached his philosophy of individual happiness. Each would then attempt to spread his teachings in their daily lives, both through word and through example. But with only sixteen against a population of thousands, any hint of change was slow in coming._

_It frustrated SoSu. He had always been considered impatient by urSkek standards, and he believed in his heart that their world needed to change. If it did not,_ **_that_ ** _would bring true tragedy in the end._

 _When GraGoh the Surveyor had come before the Council with a strange story of Crystal-bearing planets vanishing without a trace, SoSu had seized an opportunity. Here was a new, tangible threat to their world. Here was proof that the urSkeks did_ **_not_ ** _have all the knowledge the universe had to offer. He brought GraGoh into the fold of his disciples (SoSu had genuinely liked the Surveyor’s enthusiasm and flair for theatrics, and GraGoh had been grateful for the Councillor’s support), and then he had begun his own research …_

All these memories and more came back to SoSu’s shade. And, from the final years of his sundered life, he remembered the Gelfling who stood before him now. 

“Jen.”

The thought-voice was like urSu’s, but with a strength and richness Jen had never heard from the elderly Mystic in life. When he listened to it, he could understand how the urSkek had inspired so many to follow him. 

“Master…?” He approached, uncertain. 

“...Yes, I was the Master. And the Emperor. I remember them both.” SoSu looked down at his restored form, still comprehending the change from the bodies he’d inhabited for a thousand trine. Finally, he turned his white eyes on Jen again. “I remember _everything._ ”

It had been hard at first for Jen to recognize the eight living urSkeks as the Mystics who’d raised him, and it was even harder to do so for SoSu now. He’d known urSu’s face so well, from his arched snout with the healed-over broken spot, to his dark, gentle eyes, to the pattern of every wrinkled dream-spiral. 

But as with the others, as he watched him, Jen began to see things he _did_ recognize. A tilt of the head, the cadence of his words … yes, this was still his dear Master. 

He wished he could take all the time in the world to speak to him -- to enjoy this chance he’d never thought he’d have. But time was slipping way in the world of the living, and Kira and the others could not wait. 

“Then, you remember about the Star-Shadow too?” He looked up at SoSu with eyes full of hope. 

SoSu hesitated. “Yes.”

“And you know how to stop it?”

SoSu did not answer him right away. He looked around the spectral Chamber, at the scores of ghosts watching them. All of them, Gelfling and urSkek alike, had died because of his actions in life. Most knew that, but none had known the _whole_ truth of what had led to the Twice-Nine’s exile and set Thra on its path to destruction. 

“... I remember what I believed would stop it. But Jen, do _you_ remember what my light shard told you?”

Jen nodded. “That the Star-Shadow was a thing of death.” 

“And that my designs would only have brought more death.”

That gave Jen pause. He remembered that too, but he’d wanted to believe it was just more of the fatalism that had gripped urSu’s shade. He tried to ignore it, but a cold dread began to grow inside him. “What did you mean by that? I still don’t understand.”

SoSu’s corona dimmed to no more than a flicker. When he spoke, looking out at the gathered ghosts, his voice was low and heavy with guilt.

“Then I must explain. After GraGoh told me of his discovery, I made my own journey out into space. I went alone, and told no one, so no other lives would be risked.” But that had not been the whole truth, so he admitted, corona dimmed further, “And because I wanted the glory of discovery to be mine alone.” 

SoSu’s shade drew himself up straighter. “I finally came close enough to observe the force that had destroyed the other worlds. I called it the Star-Shadow did not know of any other name for such a thing. It is … it _used_ to be a Crystal-bearing planet.” 

Jen stared, stunned. He’d tried to imagine what the Devouring might be, but he’d never considered _that._ And, he noticed, the other urSkek ghosts were shocked as well. 

MalVa spoke first, his eyes narrowed. “Is that why you asked me so much about my explorations on planets with dying stars?”

TekTih’s corona wavered. His right eye was darkened -- a remembered echo of what he’d lost in life -- but his left one flared bright with understanding. “I _did_ wonder why you were suddenly so interested in the growth cycle and structural properties of our Crystal.” 

“Yes.” SoSu lowered his eyes. “I was never able to discover how the Star-Shadow came to exist, but I knew what it was now. A dark ghost of a once-living world. And it was being drawn to other worlds with Crystals. It would consume them, down to the last particle, along with their suns and moons, and then move on as ravenous as before. I knew it would only be a matter of time before it neared _our_ world.” 

A hint of darkness appeared in SoSu’s dimmed corona as he remembered what had happened after that. “When I told the rest of the Council, they decided we should wait and observe further. They thought an answer would reveal itself in time. But all I could imagine was the Star-Shadow falling over my home and destroying all I loved. I _had_ to act. I would have gone mad if I did not.” 

“And what was it you did?” Jen was almost afraid to find out. 

“I meant to turn the Crystal into a weapon.”

Now the secret was spoken. 

Just as he’d expected, SoSu saw horror on the faces of the Gelfling, and dismay and guilt in the coronas of his fellow urSkeks. Some of them had surely suspected his plan, he thought, but it was one thing to suspect, and another to be told outright what they had nearly helped their leader do. 

It hurt, as he’d also expected, to see them looking at him that way. In the dark part of his heart, the terror and rage skekSo had felt when his followers abandoned him threatened to rise. But this time, the patience that had been in urSu was there to calm it -- especially when he looked at Jen still in front of him. 

His final student had come so far to speak to him. He deserved to know everything, no matter how it might reflect on his teacher. 

“I’d studied enough to know that our facet of the Crystal of Truth is uncommonly large and powerful. I believed that if we altered its structure in just the right way, we could transform that power. We would generate a wave of destructive energy, and unleash it at the Star-Shadow.” 

TekTih stared. “ _That_ is how you meant to preserve our world?”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” VarMa sounded almost sad. 

This was the hardest part to admit. “I feared if you knew my true intention, you might try to stop me. To turn a Crystal into an instrument of destruction is one of the worst sins our people could imagine. So I deceived you all. I led you into heresy, and death, all because of my own arrogance.”

Dismay rippled through the urSkek ghosts again, this time tinged with anger and hurt. 

“None of us are guiltless,” VarMa said, before the others could speak up. He kept his tone calmly authoritative, drawing on his centuries of experience as the Peacemaker. “We should not have agreed to help you so blindly. Any of us could have questioned, or turned back if we had doubts. I remember you made that clear. But all the same … SoSu, you could have _trusted_ us. You did not have to bear this alone.” 

SoSu looked up, meeting his eyes. “And I see that now, too late.”

Jen had been listening in silence, unable to find words as he learned the magnitude of what SoSu had done -- or tried to do. _This_ was the secret he’d come here to learn? This was the answer SoSu’s surviving disciples had crossed the galaxy for?

“But that wouldn’t have _worked!_ ” Mira spoke up angrily, and her words echoed Jen’s own thoughts. “The Crystal is the heart of all life! Corrupting it like that would have destroyed the world!” 

“She’s right.” TekTih watched Mira with a corona dimmed in bleak regret. “We all witnessed what happened when Thra’s Crystal was … _altered_. What you’re speaking of … even if the Crystal had withstood the process, the lasting results would have--”

“Brought more death,” SoSu finished for him. “Now you understand. My plan was folly from the beginning. The Star-Shadow devours every Crystal it encounters. One alone could never have stopped it. All I would have done was doom our planet to its own Darkening, or something even worse.”

He gazed down at Jen. “I’m sorry. I truly am. But I do not know how to stop the Star-Shadow.” 

If he’d been told this at the start of his journey, Jen might have been overcome with despair. He’d come here so hopeful, and with the hopes of his friends and loved ones also weighing on him, only to find that what he was seeking was worse than useless. 

But he was not the same as he’d been when he started this quest. He’d already seen and accomplished things that had not seemed possible. 

He’d inspired the Skeksis and urRu to become one again. He’d found a way to free the dead from this realm. He’d faced skekSo and broken his symbol of power. And, while he’d had help and guidance along the way, he’d ultimately accomplished it all by trusting his own judgment. 

_Sometimes more wisdom can be gained by taking the less direct path,_ he remembered. _If we can’t use SoSu’s original plan, perhaps we can come up with another one. Together._

And it was that word, _together,_ that sparked a new idea. 

Images circled through Jen’s mind. Stones scattered across a pond, their ripples touching as they spread across the water. Three suns lining up, casting a beam of power that could heal a broken world. Hundreds of voices joined in a single song, opening a path from death into life. The endless prism-like pattern GraGoh had shown him on the path between Crystals …

Jen looked up at SoSu. Glancing from him to the other urSkeks, he cautiously spoke. “You said _one_ Crystal could never stop it. But what about more than one?”

He saw SoSu’s dim, dark corona begin to brighten. “... Go on.”

“All Crystals are connected, aren’t they? That’s how you were able to travel from your world to Thra, and the other planets. They’re connected because they’re all pieces of the one great Crystal of Truth, like you said. Isn’t there some way to channel _that_ power instead? Combine the power of the Crystals, _without_ harming them or their worlds?”

SoSu was silent for a long moment. 

“Perhaps. To the best of my knowledge, no one has ever attempted such a thing. It _could_ be done, I think. But I do not know how one would make a Crystal send forth its power that way.”

TekTih’s corona flared around his head with sudden insight. “Aughra might. She understands the nature of the Crystal in ways even I could never comprehend.” He turned to GraGoh. “You were able to communicate with her through Thra’s Crystal. It stands to reason she may have the insight needed to open a line of communication between _all_ Crystals.” He looked at the distortion above the shaft, and his tone grew uneasy. “I … don’t imagine she’ll relish encountering me again.” 

“She accepted the others,” Jen tried to reassure him. The voice was so much like urTih’s, except he couldn’t remember ever hearing urTih sound afraid. “She’ll listen to you. We’re facing something too big now to dwell on the past.” 

“But at least we have reason to hope now!” said GraGoh. “Your idea is a good one. But you can’t put it into action from this side.” 

SoSu nodded slowly, and drifted closer to the young Gelfling. “Yes. You’ve done all that you can here, Jen. Now it truly is time for you to return to the world of the living. You must tell Aughra and the others of your idea, and quickly!”

Jen knew he was right. Who knew how long it might take to open a channel between multiple Crystals? But at the same time, looking at the scores of ghosts around him, he hated the thought of leaving them behind. 

“But what about all of you?”

GraGoh’s corona rippled in mingled fondness and annoyance. “Didn’t I tell you there was no point in returning to a world that’s about to be devoured? We’ll be fine here. Go stop the Star-Shadow, then you can come back for us.” 

The other urSkek shades seemed content with that idea, but Jen could see worry spreading through the Gelfling ghosts. They murmured among themselves, wanting to hope but afraid of losing this chance. Up on one balcony, he noticed the black-haired guard who had doubted him earlier -- Tolyn, that was what the other ghosts had called him -- looking down at him with suspicion. 

Jen approached Mira, still at the head of her crowd of ghosts. “If you want to leave now …”

The white-haired Gelfling shook her head. “He’s right. You need to go back and do this first. Save Thra, so we can return to it.” 

“... All right. But once that’s done, I _will_ come back and free you.” He looked up and around, raising his voice as he addressed all the dead Gelfling. “Right away! I promise! I’ll come back for all of you!” 

“I believe you.” Mira smiled. “We’ve all waited this long. We can wait a little longer.” 

Jen smiled back. “It won’t be long at all. I promise that too.” 

He stepped away from her, walking toward the distortion. At the edge of the dark shaft, he lifted his firca. 

_Time to see if this really is the way out._

The gathered ghosts watched as he played the double note. One by one, they each joined in, adding their voices to the song, watching as the distortion glowed white and took on the shape of the Crystal of Truth. 

Last of all, SoSu joined in, his strong voice carrying over the others. As he did, a curving bow of light arched out from the bottom of the shining portal. It formed a narrow bridge across the shaft, mirroring the one EktUtt had so recently sculpted in the living world. 

Summoning all his courage, Jen stepped onto the bridge of light. 

It wavered for an instant, but steadied as he kept playing the note. He must not let himself be distracted, he understood, or he faced a fall into endless darkness. 

Keeping the music steady, and resisting the urge to look back at the ghosts who still sang with him, Jen took one step, a second, and a third. On the other side of the Crystal-shaped portal, he could see nothing but more white light. 

He stepped through the portal. The world turned around him as he felt himself pass through air and fire … 

* * *

Jen opened his eyes into light. 

His heart sped up. Air rushed into his lungs as he drew in a gasping breath. Muscles that had been laying motionless twitched with new life. 

Directly over him hung the Crystal. Above it was the ceiling of the Crystal Chamber, sparkling white under its cover of vines and flowers. The sky through the open portals was rose-tinted blue. 

He’d made it. He was back in the world of the living. 

“You’re awake!”

A voice, familiar and beloved. His heart beat faster. 

“Ki--” 

He tried to say her name, but it turned into a cough in his throat. He tried to turn, tried to follow her voice, but his limbs had not fully awakened, and he nearly rolled off the narrow bridge he still lay on. 

{“Easy!”} A male voice spoke, and a hand gripped his shoulder. {“Hold still. We’ll get you off of there.”}

More hands were on him, and Jen found himself half guided, half dragged off the bridge. The warmth that had been rising from the shaft gave way to cool stone under his back. 

_Now_ he could see Kira. Her beautiful face hovered over him as she knelt by his side. Across from her, Hup crouched on his other side, and the old Podling’s eyes were wide with amazement and joy. 

“I was afraid you’d never come back.” Kira stroked his hair, reassuring herself that he really was here and alive. “Are you all right?”

“I’m --” Jen coughed again, “I’m fine. How long was I gone?” 

“Three nights.” Jen turned his head at the sound of that voice, and watched as SilSol floated closer. “This is the morning of the third day. Oh Jen, you don’t know how glad I am to see you returned!” 

With Kira and Hup supporting him, Jen managed to sit up. “... I saw them. All the dead ones. They --” He started to cough again. 

UngIm and AyukAmaj were by his side in an instant. With his corona pulsing gently, the Culinarian filled a cup with clear broth from the jug he still carried, and levitated it in front of the Gelfling. 

“Don’t try to talk too much yet,” the Physician ordered. “We all want to hear, but you need to hydrate yourself and restore your waking rhythms first. Drink.” 

Jen recognized the voice of the Healer he had grown up with, and knew there was no arguing with him. He put his lips to the cup, and let AyukAmaj tip the broth into his mouth. It was cool on his dry tongue, salty and sweet in equal measure, and it refreshed him in ways he hadn’t realized he needed. 

By the time he’d drunk his fill, ZokZah and NaNol had joined them. There was still no sign of ShodYod, OkAc, or EktUtt, and none of the person Jen most needed to speak to. 

He took a deep breath, and his voice came clearer. “Where’s Aughra? I would’ve thought she’d be here.” 

{“She’s gone back to her old home. Lenev had the idea to rebuild her orrery.”} Hup gave a proud smile. {“They left with the other three,”} he gestured at the urSkeks with his spoon-arm, {“the morning of the first day.”}

“When is she coming back? I have to talk to her!” Jen’s legs wobbled as he got to his feet. 

“Have patience.” ZokZah held out a hand, steadying him with a hint of telekinesis. “Aughra and the others will return when their mission is complete. Until then, you must tell us of _your_ mission, Jen. What have you learned?”

UngIm cut right to the point. “Did you speak to SoSu?”

Jen breathed deep again, hardly knowing where to begin. “I spoke to all of them. They were _all_ there. The Mystics, the Skeksis, the Gelfling … I never dreamed I’d ever see so many Gelfling!” He glanced at Kira as he spoke in wonder. “And there was an urSkek too! That’s who Aughra was speaking to. His name is GraGoh.” 

A bright gleam of amazement radiated through the coronas of the urSkeks. 

“So his shards _did_ manage to rejoin,” ZokZah said softly. “Even in death.” 

“They all did.” Jen smiled, still awed at the memory of what he had witnessed. “They were divided when I got there, but not anymore. They’ve all become one again, just like you.”

“And SoSu?” UngIm still sounded calm, his corona glowing warmly, but there was an edge of impatience in his voice. 

Jen’s smile faded. 

“He told me about his plan for the Devouring. But it’s … well, we can’t use it.”

UngIm’s corona flared with disbelieving gray and agitated red. “What do you mean by that?!” 

The Gelfling swallowed. For the first time, he was seeing a hint of the loud, wrathful skekUng who still lived in the Physician’s soul. A reminder that this being was _not_ purely the gentle urIm he had known. 

“His plan was a mistake. It wouldn’t have stopped the Devouring, and warping your Crystal like he planned to would have destroyed your world. Just like Thra was almost destroyed.”

The red faded from UngIm’s corona, while the gray darkened as anger gave way to dismay. “Jen, are you _certain?_ ”

“SoSu said it himself. And TekTih and the others agreed with him.” Jen kept his head up. “But we still have a chance!” 

* * *

It was Ydra who finally insisted Jen needed something more substantial than broth now that he was awake. After he’d told them all of his new idea to channel the power of more than one Crystal, she all but dragged him to the well-ventilated outer chamber that served as the Castle’s kitchen. 

The vast ovens, roasting spits, and other equipment that had filled it during the time of the Gourmand had mostly been destroyed on the day of the Great Conjunction. But there was a crystalline water tap that had remained intact, left in place from when the urSkeks had first built the Castle. The spout stretched out from the wall like a thrushpog from a tree trunk, and supplied the Castle’s residents with water for drinking, washing, and cooking on days when they did not go down to the village for meals. 

A pot of porridge, rich with milk and summer vegetables, was warming over the clay-lined fire pit the Podlings had built several trine ago. While Ydra filled bowls, Jen pulled the stopper from the tap and rinsed his face and hands. He didn’t feel as grimy as he knew he ought to after three days without bathing (he supposed the urSkeks had been cleaning him and tending to his bowels while he slept), but the fresh water still felt wonderful. At last, he felt completely _alive_ again. 

Kira and Hup had stayed close by his side. The four of them gathered around the kitchen’s small table, and as they ate, Jen told them more of what he had seen on his journey. 

“I hope they really can still return to Thra,” Kira said. “Jen, the Gelfling you saw. Were any of them ...”

He shook his head, and clasped her hand gently. “I didn’t see your parents. They already returned to Thra when they died in battle, like Hup told us the other night --”

Jen’s eyes shot wide as he remembered. He leapt to his feet, quickly hurrying over to the Podling man in his excitement. “Hup! I learned something else while I was there! Deet’s son, the one you thought was lost … Hup, it was _me! I’m_ the son of Rian and Deet!”

Hup stared at him, porridge falling off his spoon-hand. Open-mouthed, he took in the Gelfling’s features, hardly daring to believe what he was hearing. 

{“... I didn’t want to let myself hope,”} he whispered. 

Jen gaped. “You mean you knew already?”

Hup shook his head insistently. {“I couldn’t be sure. I saw you had Rian’s eyes, but blue eyes were common among the Stonewood. And the baby had pale streaks in his hair too, but that wasn’t strange for Gelfling either.”}

Jen was almost trembling. “Hup, what was their son’s name?”

Hup swallowed. {“His name was Jen. When I met you, I _did_ wonder. But then I remembered there were a lot of Stonewood babies named that during the war. I told myself not to hope you might be him. If I was wrong, it would be like losing him and Deet all over again …”}

Jen pulled the old Podling into a warm, joyful embrace before he could say another word. And Hup hugged him back fiercely, neither of them caring when his spoon left a smear of porridge on Jen’s tunic. 

“You didn’t lose me. UrSu must have found me before you could get back to the village that day. I’ve been safe all this time. You _didn’t_ fail.”

Tears twinkled in Hup’s eyes. {“Deet would be so proud of you. Rian too.”} 

* * *

Some minutes later, as the four of them were finishing their meal, Lenev made her way down into the kitchen. 

{“You are awake!”} she declared at the sight of Jen. {“I am glad.”}

{“I’m glad to see you back too!”} In their time knowing each other, the two had each picked up a few words of Gruenak and Gelfling, but Podling was still the only language they could truly communicate in. {“Is Aughra with you? I must talk to her!”}

Lenev pointed. {“She is in Chamber. Talk to urSkeks. Come, we all go! She see much, want to tell much!”}

As they headed back to the Crystal Chamber, Jen watched Hup and Lenev talking excitedly back and forth in Gruenak as they told each other all that had happened while they were apart. And as they did, Jen found himself looking at Lenev in a new way. 

Both of them were children the Podling had taken under his care. In a way, Jen thought, that made them family. 

Jen loved Ydra, and the rest of Kira’s adoptive clan, and they had always made him feel welcome. But even so, there were times when he felt lonely among them. All of his own family were either dead, or had been transformed and left Thra -- and him -- behind. 

Now, it turned out, he still had family here on Thra after all. And that was new and wonderful to think about. 

* * *

Aughra was still in conversation with the eight gathered urSkeks. As Jen and the others entered the Crystal Chamber, she turned and approached him. 

“There you are! Seem to be none the worse for wear. _And_ learned some things worth knowing, if what this lot tell me is true!”

“I did learn a lot,” he said. “I hardly know where to start.” 

“At the beginning, of course!” Aughra huffed. “Where else? You try to start somewhere else, you’re just going to get yourself lost!”

Jen couldn’t argue with that. 

As the suns climbed higher above them, he finally told the full tale of his journey through the realm of the dead. When he came at last to what the reunified SoSu had revealed, Aughra shook her head. 

“Was afraid that might be true. He only had half the knowledge of what he was facing, and that can be more dangerous than no knowledge at all. The Devouring _is_ a dead thing, but it’s also alive. _Aware._ I saw that for myself.” 

Kira spoke up. “If it’s aware, can’t we talk to it? Reason with it somehow?”

Aughra shook her head again. “It’s too far gone. Too full of pain and hunger to stop itself.” She turned to Jen. “But your idea might just be the answer. The Crystal of Truth is alive too. It has its own mind. Can speak for itself when it wants, _and_ call out to others. None of us here can talk to the Devouring, but the Crystal itself -- the true, greater Crystal, all its facets together … yes, that might do it.” 

Jen brightened, then hesitated. “But how do we get the Crystal to do that?”

“Hmph. That _is_ the question.” She looked back over her shoulder at the shining white stone. “Aughra will see what she can do.”

The ancient seer approached the Crystal. As she stood before it, bathed in the light of the rising Greater Sun, Jen saw the third eye in her forehead begin to glow yellow. She closed her remaining eye in deep concentration, and began to hum under her breath. Slowly, she reached out toward the Crystal …

Abruptly, she stopped. 

The glow in her eye snuffed out like a candle. She yanked her hand back as if burned, dismay written clearly on her face. 

“Mother Aughra, what’s wrong?” ZokZah asked. 

Aughra did not take her eye off the Crystal. “We’re about to have more visitors.”

A moment later, the white stone started to glow with the same strange, blinding golden light it had three days ago. 

Once again, the light spread out into beams -- ten of them this time. Each beam formed itself into a tall, luminous figure, and ten urSkeks appeared. 

For an instant, Jen dared to hope that his dead Master and the others had somehow found a way to enter the world of the living on their own. But no, he saw; these urSkeks were clearly alive, their coronas bright and steady. 

The patterns on their white robes were different too. The front panels prominently featured two symbols Jen remembered urZah teaching him: the ones for ‘protect’ and ‘order opposing chaos’. 

The eight’s coronas turned pale at the sight of the newcomers. 

One urSkek, whose robe also bore the symbol for ‘command’, floated forward. When she spoke, her thought-voice was stern and cold. “Once-Fallen. I’m pleased to see we find you all in one place.” 

Red flickered in UngIm’s corona. “What are you doing here, MbasMbet?”

“You and your comrades have been ordered to return to OmPhaben at once, Physician. We are here to escort you.” She made a polite wave of her hand toward the Crystal, as if inviting him to enter. “And you will address me as _Commander._ ”

SilSol moved across the now-crowded Chamber as he spoke. “And _why_ is our presence so insistently requested?”

MbasMbet narrowed her eyes. “I’m sure you know that already, Cantor.”

“ _Mmmm,_ perhaps. But there have been far too many secrets kept already. Enlighten us, Commander. Speak openly.”

“I see no reason to,” she said sharply, watching SilSol. “You are ordered by the Council. That should be enough for any true urSkek to obey.”

SilSol’s corona turned gray. “And yet it is not. We have good cause not to trust the Council. If you would listen, I think you might be convinced too --”

In the blink of an eye, MbasMbet whipped something curved and dark from inside her robe. It flew across the Chamber and struck SilSol directly in the throat. 

The Cantor’s thought-voice was instantly silenced. A disk-shaped collar of black metal, spreading out like the rings of a planet, had locked itself around his neck. It was so dark that it visibly drained the light from his corona, and the terrified, voiceless SilSol clawed at it in vain. 

“You won’t sway anyone else with your lies,” MbasMbet snapped. “Did you think you could defy the Council without consequences?”

Aughra marched up to the Enforcer Commander, pointing her walking stick threateningly. “How dare you! He and the others came here trying to save both our worlds! They’re here as my guests. _You_ are intruders! Let him go, and then get out, all of you!”

MbasMbet looked down at the horned sage as if she were a worm or rodent that had somehow learned to talk. “I see you’ve taught some of this planet’s lifeforms to communicate with us. How charming. Your work, Chronicler?”

Two of the other Enforcers had flanked the now-powerless SilSol. “Commander,” one of them spoke up, “we must hurry. The connection between Crystals cannot be kept open for long.” 

“You’re right. We’ve wasted enough time.” 

With a wave of telekinesis, MbasMbet shoved Aughra into the mouth of the Crystal shaft. The fragile web of roots and vines tore open under her as she fell. 

MbasMbet did not even glance at her. “Get nullifiers on the rest of them.” 

UngIm quickly turned to the Gelfling. “Jen, Kira, _run!_ ”

“Come on!” Kira pulled at Jen’s arm, trying to get him to flee with her through the nearest archway. But he lingered, unable to look away in his horror. 

The Enforcers moved fast, locking two more of those black disk-collars on ZokZah and ShodYod. The Ritualist and Arithmetician froze, unable to speak -- barely even able to keep themselves levitated. 

“This isn’t neces--” OkAc’s words were cut off as they silenced the Chronicler too. 

NaNol, his corona burning with rage, tried to fight back. He channeled his power into the vines around him, bringing them to life in a writhing forest of green. With them, he lashed at the Enforcers, and managed to knock the first nullifier aside. But MbasMbet’s second in command shredded the vines with his own telekinesis, and the next nullifier caught the Botanist from behind. Splintered, broken vines and crushed flowers instantly dropped to the floor. 

In the corridor, Hup yanked at Jen’s sleeve with his good hand. {“Hurry! We have get out of here!”} 

“No!” Jen pulled his arm away sharply, and turned back to the archway. “I’m not running away this time. We have to help them!”

Kira hurried after him. “Jen, no! There’s nothing we can do ...” 

Back in the Chamber, EktUtt and AyukAmaj held their ground together, fending off strike after strike, until the Enforcers surrounded them. They forced the Designer and Culinarian to bow down, overwhelming them with raw telekinetic power, and locked them in nullifiers too. 

UngIm was the last one standing. Even now, he was the strongest and most skilled fighter of the eight, and his corona burned red as flame as he deflected the nullifier over and over, and forced back each Enforcer who tried to subdue him. 

“Surrender, Physician!” MbasMbet ordered again. “You’re alone. You cannot win this.” 

UngIm's teeth were bared. A bestial growl rose in his throat -- a sound that no urSkek had made in Ages. “I will _never_ surrender!”

MbasMbet paused. Slowly, she looked past him ... and caught sight of the two Gelfling who stood half-hidden in the archway, watching them.

“... Those lifeforms. You spoke to them. You must care for them.” 

UngIm’s rage instantly turned to horror. 

Before he could stop her, MbasMbet telekinetically seized hold of Jen and Kira. They cried out, their voices carrying as she snatched them across the Chamber. An instant later, she held them suspended in the air, paralyzed and helpless in her invisible grip, directly over the fiery shaft. 

UngIm’s corona was pale, but red still flickered at his core. “Commander, don’t hurt them. They’ve done nothing! They had no part in this!” 

“Then _surrender._ Stop resisting, come back with us _now,_ and they will not be harmed.” 

“Let go of us!” Kira shouted. “You can’t--” 

Another Enforcer reached out, pinching his thumb and finger together, and Kira found her mouth slammed closed by unseen power. Her teeth and jaw ached from the force of it. 

For a moment, UngIm faced the Commander in silence, glancing back and forth between her and the Gelfling ...

… The last trace of red faded from his corona. He bowed his head, and when an Enforcer locked the last nullifier around his neck, he did not resist. 

While MbasMbet still held Jen and Kira over the shaft, the other Enforcers herded SoSu’s former followers into a line. The Crystal was still glowing that unnatural shade of gold that had signaled the arrival of the urSkeks. One by one, each with an Enforcer by his side, the eight were forced to enter it, and their corporeal forms dissolved into light. 

Just before UngIm passed into the Crystal, the Commander spoke again. “To make sure you _stay_ compliant once we arrive, I think we’ll take your two pets with us.”

{“ _NO!_ ”} Hup charged from the archway, spoon brandished in righteous, protective fury. {“I won’t let you take him--”}

MbasMbet flung the Podling across the Chamber as if she were doing no more than swatting a fly. His spoon snapped in two as he hit the crystalline edge of a balcony, and he fell to the floor, unmoving. 

The Commander levitated Jen close to her, and pushed Kira through the air toward her second in command. “Be careful. These creatures might carry disease.”

Down in the shaft, Aughra had just barely managed to cling onto the broken web of roots when she fell. “You’re all being _stupid!_ ” she roared at the urSkeks as she struggled to climb up. “You don’t have time to waste on fighting like this! _The Devouring is coming for your world!_ ”

The second in command glanced down at her. “We know. And be assured, we have the means to stop it.”

As Jen watched in horror, Kira and her urSkek captor disappeared into the Crystal. 

Then MbasMbet took him in with her. Endless refractions of light filled his senses. There was no sound or touch, no space or time, only white into rainbow into white …

* * *

 **_To Be Continued…_ **


End file.
